Lord of Ashes

THIRTY-SEVEN

Janessa had not spoken since Kaira brought her back to the palace. She merely sat in her chamber, staring out to the north of the city, looking beyond the wall to where lay Amon Tugha’s army.

Kaira had no idea what to say. It had been her duty to protect the queen and she had come close to failing, more than once. Not that Janessa made it easy for her. Kaira could never be blamed if Janessa gifted her throat to the enemy, but it wasn’t blame she was concerned about. She had grown fond of this girl. Grown to love her, even. She had been thrust onto the throne, given the role of a warrior queen when she was no more than a child. No wonder she had taken it on herself to sacrifice everything to save the city. Kaira couldn’t say whether she would not have done the same in the queen’s position.

‘I have failed,’ Janessa said quietly.

Kaira moved to her side, placing a hand on the girl’s shoulder.

‘You have not. You yet live. The city still stands. While you breathe there is hope.’

Janessa shook her head. ‘He will come and he will destroy this city. You should have let me die.’

Kaira grabbed Janessa by her arms, hauling the girl to her feet.

‘No,’ she said, staring Janessa in the eye. ‘You are a queen. You are stronger than this. You have survived worse than this; every attempt on your life has failed.’

‘And how many have died to protect me?’ Janessa shouted back. Tears welled in her eyes. Kaira didn’t know whether to be sorry or encouraged by the sudden fire inside the girl. ‘How many more will die before Amon Tugha’s victory?’

‘Hundreds,’ said Kaira. ‘Thousands, maybe. But they will die on their feet, in defiance of him. They will not kneel before him and offer themselves like sheep to the slaughter.’

Janessa looked to the ground and Kaira sensed her shame.

‘I’m not strong enough. I can’t beat him.’

‘Not on your own.’ Kaira lifted the girl’s chin. ‘But you are not alone. You stand at the head of a loyal army. You stand queen of all the Free States. And self-pity does not become you.’

Janessa nodded. ‘I know. You’re right.’ She wiped the corner of her eye. ‘I almost destroyed everything. Almost gifted Amon Tugha the victory he seeks. I have to make it right.’

Kaira smiled. ‘Your only mistake was naivety. To trust the word of a man with no honour. But you will make that right.’

‘I will,’ said Janessa. ‘And I will do it now. My sword? My armour?’

‘I’ll see they are brought immediately, Majesty.’

She gave Janessa one last smile before leaving her chamber. Kaira was encouraged by the girl’s sudden fire but also knew it did not mean they could win. Janessa may well have been right about not being able to beat Amon Tugha, but there were worse things than defeat. Kaira knew that all too well. She could only hope Vorena would keep them strong when the final battle came.

Kaira had not reached the end of the corridor from Janessa’s chamber before she saw Seneschal Rogan waiting patiently. He smiled when he saw her and took a step forward.

‘I trust the queen is well after last night’s … excitement?’ he said.

How could he know so soon? But then he always knew. His eyes and ears were everywhere, within the palace and without.

‘She is quite well,’ Kaira replied. ‘And eager to join the fight once more.’

‘Such a relief. The city needs her now more than ever.’

‘And she will serve it as any queen would.’

‘Of that I am sure. I trust you have enough men to keep her safe? Should you require more I have servants of the Inquisition who would be only too happy to join her retinue.’

Rogan sounded genuinely concerned, and for a moment Kaira considered it. Janessa had been in enough danger, and it would only increase as the siege wore on. Perhaps Rogan’s help was what she needed.

But no. It was Kaira’s duty, and that of the Sentinels, to keep the queen safe. Only they could be trusted. Lord Leon Magrida had proven that beyond doubt.

Kaira shook her head. ‘We have more than enough men, Seneschal. But your concern is appreciated.’

He bowed his head. ‘I live to serve the Crown.’

‘As do I,’ she replied.

Kaira made her way down through the palace, on the way ordering a steward to have the queen’s armour sent to her chamber. The Helsbayn was locked within its vestibule, and Kaira would trust no one else to bring the queen her sacred sword of office.

As she walked along an empty corridor towards the great hall, Kaira was sure she heard a mumbling. She stopped, alert to any danger. Perhaps she was being over-cautious, but the past days, and the inherent danger to the queen, meant she was immediately on edge. More mumbling, this time clear along the corridor and accompanied by a metallic clink. Chains perhaps?

Kaira slowly drew her sword and moved down the passageway, following the sound. It grew louder, more frenetic, and with every step she feared the worst — another assassin within the walls of Skyhelm? How many more before this was over?

She peered around the corner. An adjoining corridor led off into darkness but there was a door open to a large chamber. The voice was audible now, though spoken in hushed tones. Kaira couldn’t make out any of the words; they were babbled as though by a madman. She waited, gripping her sword tight, feeling its weight, ready to strike.

With a jangle, Chancellor Durket appeared from the room. He carried a large leather pack over each shoulder, huffing under their weight as he staggered down the corridor. When he had moved close enough Kaira stepped out from her hiding place and he stopped dead, his eyes wide.

‘Chancellor?’ said Kaira.

‘Er … yes?’ he replied.

‘Going somewhere?’ Durket shook his head vigorously. Kaira guessed his gesture might not have been altogether honest. ‘What do you carry there?

‘Nothing,’ said Durket. ‘I mean … nothing for you to be concerned with.’ His brow furrowed in annoyance. ‘Now, out of the way, I have to attend to the business of the Crown.’

Kaira didn’t move, and he stared up at her trying his best to act defiant, but under Kaira’s stern gaze there was little chance of that.

‘I’ll ask again, what do you carry there?’ she said.

Durket merely stared at her, unwilling or unable to move. Kaira’s patience had worn thin enough.

Her sword flashed out, slicing a leather smile from one of the packs. Gold crowns spilled out in a river, bouncing on the tiled floor, ringing the sound of Durket’s guilt all along the corridor.

Kaira struck out, grasping Durket by the throat and slamming him up against the wall.

‘Thief,’ she spat. ‘You think to abandon this place, your queen, in their hour of need. You would run away with the last of the gold in the palace coffers?’

Durket sobbed, shaking his head. ‘It’s not me,’ he said. ‘It not me. It’s not me.’

Kaira felt a sudden sympathy for the man. They might all die here and Durket was certainly no warrior. He was weak and afraid but so was half the city.

As she released him he slid down the wall, tears flowing as he repeated ‘it’s not me’ over and over through moist lips. She just stared down at him, sitting amongst his stolen gold, wondering what to do until he suddenly stopped his sobbing rant and looked up at her.

‘Do you hear it?’ he asked.

Kaira wondered if he had become unhinged through fear. ‘I hear nothing,’ she answered.

‘I can hear it all the time. That voice in my head. It talks to me in the dark. Every night since …’

‘Since when?’ she asked, though why she wanted to decipher the ramblings of a man stricken with terror she didn’t know.

‘Since he came to take her. Since you killed his men and the queen took his head. I can hear him.’

‘Who?’ Kaira demanded. If she’d had to admit it, Durket’s rambling was beginning to unnerve her. ‘Azai Dravos? He is dead and gone. Nothing speaks to you but your fevered dreams.’

Durket laughed then. He laughed till the tears from his eyes and spit from his mouth ran free. ‘No,’ he said when his breath had returned. ‘I know he’s dead. It’s the voice of his master I hear. The voice of Horas. He comes to me in the night. He calls to me.’

Kaira sheathed her sword. It was obvious Durket had been driven insane, but he was clearly little danger other than to the palace coffers. She reached down and hauled him to his feet.

‘Leave the palace,’ she said. Durket looked at her dumbly through red eyes. ‘Leave this place and never return. If I ever see you again this Horas will be the least of your troubles.’

Durket nodded vigorously, then smiled. ‘Yes,’ he whispered, before stumbling off down the corridor.

Kaira watched him go, wondering if he wasn’t the lucky one. Amon Tugha was almost within the city. Surely the insanity had only just begun.