The Sleeping King (6 page)

She paused in her fretting long enough to chide gently, “You are the noblest man I have ever met.
That
is why I married you.” She went back to twisting her skirts nervously. “Is there nothing I can say to save him?”

“Do not be foolish,” Regalo replied with an edge to his voice. “Darius is guilty, and traitors must die. If you were to abase yourself unduly, all of Haraland would lose face and status that have taken centuries to build. Every one of our subjects would suffer for your moment of weakness.”

Regalo spoke more gently as if to ease the harshness of his words. “Darius knows what he did and why. I am certain he is at peace with the consequences. He knows we will make his family understand that he sacrificed himself for us all and that we will take care of them. Even if he walks through the Flame tonight, he will have met a noble end protecting you. I will not forget that.”

Gabrielle did her best to share her husband's faith in Maximillian's justice, but it did not come so easily to her. Regalo saw the Emperor as the compass of the realm, guiding Koth through eternity, wise, all-powerful, and impartial, knowing things the rest of them did not. While people of other races lived and died, acquired and lost knowledge, Maximillian and his Kothite cadre were immortal, amassing vast stores of knowledge and wisdom in their endless lives. Regalo trusted the Emperor's decisions implicitly. Her husband did not see Maximillian as vindictive or cruel; the Emperor merely did what was necessary to keep the Empire on course.

She was more inclined to wonder whether or not Maximillian was in a generous mood tonight, and how high a price he would extract from them if, by some chance, he chose to let Darius live. Of one thing she was sure. Although it might not be demanded of them in gold, there was always a steep price to pay for crossing the Emperor's path.

“Sit, dear. Your breathing is not fully returned to normal, and the stress of an audience with the Emperor could set off another attack.”

She did as Regalo suggested, but only because Darius would certainly not survive any show of weakness from his sovereigns before the Emperor.

The Emperor's chamberlain opened the door and gestured silently for them to come. Reluctantly, she followed Regalo down a grand corridor, which housed an art collection that would make the curator of any museum in the land weep with envy. They were ushered into the Emperor's personal library. She hoped desperately that the location for this audience signaled that Maximillian did not plan to make a public example of Darius.

She and Regalo were led across an enormous high-ceilinged space, famed throughout the Empire for its priceless collection of trophies, and Gabrielle stared about in awe. There were books aplenty—a wonder in their own right, for they were rare throughout the Empire—but that was only the beginning of the marvels.

The husk of what appeared to be a giant eyeball was the first trophy she noticed mounted high upon a wall. Beside it were three identical and monstrously reptilian heads. She gasped, “Are those the heads of a chimera?”

Regalo looked where she pointed. “I do believe so.” Then he added under his breath, “Look at these.”

She gazed at a crystal bowl large enough to hold fruit punch for a hundred guests. It was full of gemstones in every color of the rainbow. “Are those…”

The chamberlain glanced over his shoulder and murmured casually, “Mindstones. From Mindor.”

Gabrielle's jaw dropped. Each stone was said to be capable of storing a person's entire lifetime of memories and knowledge within it. A single mindstone was worth a king's fortune.
Hundreds
of them were heaped in that bowl.

Beside the bowl of magical gems rested a pile of technical sketches executed in astonishing detail and complexity. Upon second glance, she realized she was looking at blueprints for a Black Ship. Ever a fan of engineering, Regalo paused and ventured to lift the first sketch. She spied what looked like a schematic for construction of the massive canal that linked the Inland Sea to the great Abyssmal Sea many hundreds of miles away.

Regalo ran his fingers lightly down a tall, polished column of wood standing beside the table. “Teak. Do you suppose this is the last shard of Duskendar? I heard the Emperor possesses it.”

“The great teak treant?” she replied, stunned.

“His Resplendent Majesty awaits,” the chamberlain urged.

Regalo lengthened his stride and caught up with his and Gabrielle's guide. A pair of golden doors loomed ahead and her heart pounded nervously.

“The Swords of the Dwarven Kings,” Regalo breathed.

Gabrielle glanced up and saw a magnificent pair of swords mounted upon a carved ironwood shield. Space for a third sword gaped empty beside the other two.

The blades were legendary, the most recognizable symbols of the great dwarven races. Deep Fang, the blade of the errock—deep dwarves—hung beside the Kelnor hill dwarves' great sword, the Battle Brand. Absent only was Mountain's Edge, the symbolic weapon of the Terrakin, the dwarves of Under Urth. The Terrakin claimed that it had been lost in battle, but rumors persisted that the Terrakin Kingdom merely hid the weapon from Maximillian.

Then her gaze locked upon the statue beside the door … not a statue at all, but a human being encased entirely in amber. Even Regalo's eyes widened at the sight.

“Is he alive?” she asked no one in particular.

The chamberlain glanced at the frozen man whose open eyes stared back at them with eerie awareness. “I do not know. But His Resplendent Majesty does stop often to admire the piece. I sometime wonder if he … communicates … with the prisoner.”

Whether the Amber Man, the last thing the Emperor's subjects likely saw before an audience with him, was merely a curiosity or a stern warning she did not know. Either way, she shuddered with apprehension as the chamberlain threw open the golden doors before her.

She stepped warily into a receiving chamber similar to, but on a much smaller scale than, the golden hall, complete with its own Black Flame throne. Maximillian stood before it conversing quietly with—

—Oh no.
Archduke Ammertus. Starfire's father and a madman of the first order. The man positively thrived on violence and death, suffering and misery. He terrified her a great deal more than Maximillian, who was marginally sane. At the base of the dais, a disheveled Darius knelt, shackled. Grief poured through Gabrielle and she let it flow freely. Let the Emperor see Haraland's care for its own.

She and Regalo made their obeisances to the Emperor and she made sure not to skimp on the depth of her curtsy or the length of time she held it. While she was thus contorted, she heard a commotion behind her. Someone else made an entrance to the chamber.

Starfire hurried in and bowed briefly. “Your Resplendent Majesty, I attend at your request. My humble apologies for making you wait.”

Maximillian sat down upon his throne, taking a moment to adjust his robes. He looked up, casting a razor-sharp look at his assembled subjects. A look of decision crossed his face, and only then did he announce in supreme boredom, “Speak, Starfire.”

The chamberlain indicated that they could rise, and Gabrielle straightened. She was startled to see that Princess Endellian had slipped into the room and stood at her father's right hand. The symbolism of her position was not lost on Gabrielle. A dangerous woman, Endellian, heir to a throne that would never be vacated by her immortal sire.

Gabrielle gritted her teeth as Tyviden gave a more or less accurate account of the events leading up to Darius smashing his fist into the Kothite's nose, but spun in such a way that he appeared to be entirely the victim. It galled her that he was allowed to act so badly and her man was arrested for merely doing his duty.

Although kings and queens technically held similar rank to High Lords and Ladies, the reality was that Kothites took precedence above all others. The Council of Kings was also technically a governing body, but everyone knew they were merely a rubber stamp for Maximillian's decisions. The Emperor might make a show of appeasing one of his powerful kings tonight, but in reality, Starfire was guaranteed to get away with his atrocious behavior. And Darius was guaranteed to pay.

Her indignation must have been palpable, for the Emperor glanced over at her more than once during Starfire's recitation.

When the whoreson was finished, Maximillian asked with deceptive mildness, “Have you something to add, Queen Gabrielle?”

As much as she burned to defend her loyal defender, she must not. “No, Your Resplendent Majesty. Nothing.” The words were acid on her tongue. They ate at her spirit, which was, of course, exactly Maximillian's intent in voicing the question in the first place.

Regalo took a breath as if to speak, then waited for the Emperor's permission as protocol dictated.

“Speak, Your Noble Highness of Haraland.”

She took it as a good sign that the Emperor was dropping Starfire's title and honorific, but using her husband's. It was a clear signal of Maxmillian's displeasure with his High Lord.

Regalo spoke formally. “If it pleases Your Resplendent and Just Majesty, we acknowledge Sir Darius's error and cannot forgive it. However, I would like to offer the fire of youth and his extreme eagerness to protect his queen as explanation. He
mistakenly
perceived a threat where there was none.” Gabrielle caught the subtle emphasis Regalo placed on the word “mistakenly,” as if perhaps his knight had not been mistaken at all. Surely Maximillian caught it as well.

Her husband finished, “There can be no excuse for his rash and reckless behavior other than excessive zeal to serve.”

“Your knight punched me in the nose!” Starfire exclaimed.

“Would you not love to have ten thousand knights as eager as Darius and so devoted to you?” Regalo observed dryly to Maximillian.

Gabrielle noted that not by a single hair's breadth did Regalo's gaze stray toward Starfire, even though that last comment was clearly a veiled criticism directed at the High Lord.

Maximillian's eyes flickered briefly with amusement at her husband's smoothly delivered dig. She spotted a hint of annoyance in the Emperor's eyes as he glanced over at the High Lord, who had obviously caused this whole stew. Gabrielle closed her eyes in a moment of abject gratitude.
The stars bless Regalo's skill at reading the Emperor's moods
. Perhaps there was a minuscule chance Darius would escape this debacle alive, after all.

The Emperor sat silent upon his throne until she thought she might die of the suspense. Was it possible he was rethinking his decision? Turning his attention away from the insolent mortal who punched a High Lord and toward the failings of the High Lord, himself?

Abruptly the Emperor ordered, “Let the prisoner stand forth.”

Darius was dragged upright. Stoic to the last, he stood at attention and stared straight ahead at nothing. Pride for Haraland's native son swelled in her bosom.

“I find your devotion to your queen touching. I also find you guilty of treason against the person of Dread High Lord Tyviden Starfire. And in consequence, I hereby strip you of…”—a pause, and then Maximillian uttered lightly, “… everything.”

He said that last word so simply, so matter-of-factly, that the import of it did not fully register upon Gabrielle until he leaned forward on his throne, glaring down at Darius. “You shall have no country, no queen, no rank.” The slightest of pauses. “And no name. Henceforth, you will be known as … Krugar.”

Gabrielle suppressed a shudder. Krugar was the name of a nasty little man in Haraland whom Darius had caught tricking unwed mothers into indenture under illegal contracts that amounted to slavery and working them and their young children nigh unto death. Darius despised the fellow and for good reason. The Emperor must have plucked the name from Darius's mind as someone her knight hated.

Now why would the Emperor take away Darius's name? The rest of it was no great surprise. But his name?

Ammertus made a sound of disgust, bit off quickly, but not before enough of it escaped to express his opinion of the Emperor's sentence.

Starfire declared with gleeful viciousness, “Traitors do not deserve to wear the blazon of a king.”

He started to reach for Darius, no doubt to rip off the knight's Haraland badge, but Regalo stepped smoothly in front of Starfire, saying, “You are correct, High Lord. I placed the colors upon him. It is up to me to remove them.”

Gabrielle watched in open grief as Regalo used his small ceremonial dagger to carefully slice the stitching holding Darius's house badge and badge of knighthood from his tabard.

Regalo stepped back, remarking casually, “Not that what he wears upon his clothing matters, anyway. It is the mark upon his spirit that counts.”

Starfire opened his mouth to make a retort, but Maximillian interjected first. “Indeed.”

She threw Regalo a look of abject gratitude not only for sparing Darius the humiliation of Starfire ripping off his blazons, but also for reminding her knight that his honor was writ upon his soul and not his shirt.

Maximillian was speaking again. “As for you, Krugar. I shall leave your memory intact that you may know him whom you insulted, and that you may never forget the reason for your fall from grace. If, however, you make any attempt to contact any person or persons from your past, they will not live long enough to utter your true name.”

The extent of the Emperor's punishment dawned slowly on Gabrielle. Darius would have no home and no title … but furthermore, he would have no honor, no reputation that lived beyond him, no noble death. He had been banished to obscurity, never to be remembered, never to be spoken of fondly by family, friends, or his fellow knights. Even his honorable sacrifice for her and for Haraland was to be stripped from him. For a knight, it was a more cruel punishment than death.