The Shattered Crown

FIFTY-ONE

The palace gardens of Skyhelm were empty but for Janessa, Kaira and the priest. No one else had wanted to attend, but Janessa didn’t mind. No one else needed to be here, and it was doubtful he would have cared anyway.

Odaka Du’ur lay in the ground, his body wrapped in a sheet of silk. The Father of Killers had managed to do her harm after all, though not in the manner he had intended. Odaka had died trying to give Janessa a chance to escape.

There had been little time to study the proper burial rituals of Equ’un. So, this had seemed the only suitable way. Odaka had served her father for many years and it was only fitting that the funerary rites of the Free States were observed at his burial.

She had picked the gardens for his interment to always have him close, at least in spirit. Now Odaka was gone who would advise her? Chancellor Durket? It was unlikely he could muster an opinion on anything other than what to have for dinner. Seneschal Rogan? The more Janessa learned about that man, the less she trusted him.

As the Priest of Arlor recited his litanies Janessa looked down at Odaka’s body. He had given his life for her, like so many others in the arena. How many more would lose their lives in the days to come? How many of them would do it in her name? She had to be worthy of such sacrifice, had to be strong.

Surely she had proven that strength already when she took a broken sword and ended the Father of Killers. Was it enough? Would she need to dig deeper?

She had certainly begun in the right way — two of her foes were dead by her own hand. Only days ago she could never have dreamed of such a thing, but now it was as though she yearned to face her enemies, her hand itching to hold the Helsbayn and wield it in a real battle. In the next few days she might well have her chance.

As she listened to the priest’s words, she laid a hand on her stomach. How much longer would she be able to hide the fact she was with child? Should she even try? And how could she justify fighting, leading her people to battle, putting herself in harm’s way, with a life growing inside her?

No use thinking on it now. Should Amon Tugha smash the walls of Steelhaven it wouldn’t matter anyway. She would be dead.

The priest had finished now. He stood with his head bowed, waiting for Janessa. Should she say any words? But what use were words now? Odaka would not hear them. He must have known how much he meant to her. Her only sorrow was that she could not thank him for his sacrifice.

‘Majesty,’ someone called from behind her.

She turned to see a young man, his livery denoting him a palace servant, trotting towards her across the gardens.

Kaira moved to block his path. Since the arena, she had been more vigilant, more protective, than ever.

The young man dropped to his knee several steps away from Janessa.

‘Speak,’ she said, annoyed that Odaka’s burial had been interrupted.

‘Apologies, Majesty,’ he said, rising to his feet, ‘but you have been summoned to the War Chamber. The armies have retreated from the front. Duke Bannon Logar is here.’

‘Very well,’ Janessa replied. ‘Tell them I am on my way.’

She looked back at Odaka in his grave. She had wanted to stay while it was filled, to see him properly interred, but it seemed there was no time. But he of all people would have understood.

‘Goodbye, my friend,’ she whispered, as she and Kaira made their way inside.

She did not change for her meeting. She wore a plain gown, a fur cloak about her shoulders. Perhaps something more regal might have been appropriate, but she was not about to keep her generals waiting.

Kaira led the way, opening the door to the War Chamber then moving aside to allow Janessa to enter. As she did so, the four men inside stood. They had been sat about the table of oak and iron in silence, none of them speaking until she was there to hear their words and advice, and decide what action to take.

The cloak about Janessa’s shoulder suddenly felt too heavy. Nausea gripped her, but she bit it back. She was stronger than this.

‘My lords,’ she said, gripping the back of her seat. Each of the four men bowed.

On one side of the table stood General Hawke and Marshal Farren of the Knights of the Blood. Each looked wearier and more haggard than the last time she had seen them. They must have seen much battle in the intervening days. Hawke in particular looked like an old man in his heavy armour, his beard filthy and unkempt.

To the other side stood Lord Marshal Ryder in his bronze armour. Next to him was a tall man, broad at the shoulder and fierce in the eye who must have been Duke Bannon Logar of Valdor. He was about as old as Hawke, and his white armour was battered and rent, but he looked ready to do battle right here and now. As Janessa looked at him she thought at first he looked nothing like his son, the late Lord Raelan Logar, but then the old man smiled, and the family resemblance was obvious.

‘Duke Logar, Majesty,’ said Lord Marshal Ryder, gesturing at the old man. Janessa proffered him a nod and he returned it.

‘It is good to finally meet you, my lord,’ she said. ‘I have heard much of your bravery. A trait you clearly shared with your son.’

A flicker of sadness crossed Bannon’s face. ‘Thank you, Majesty. I know he thought highly of you.’

Janessa wasn’t exactly sure how much of that was true but she acknowledged his comment with a smile. ‘Shall we?’ she asked, gesturing to the chairs. When she had sat, the four men took their places at the table.

There was a moment’s silence before Janessa realised that she was leading the meeting. She was entirely in charge of proceedings. These men were her war council and they would only speak at her command.

But what would she ask? She had not been trained in the ways of war. What little she had learned of men and supplies over the last few weeks would scarcely be adequate here.

‘Tell me where we stand,’ said Janessa.

Seems as good a way to start as any.

None of them appeared eager to speak. General Hawke seemed interested in the polished sheen of the table. Marshal Farren glanced to Duke Logar who took a deep breath before beginning.

‘Not in an advantageous position, Majesty, all truth be told,’ said Bannon. ‘No mercenaries are left within the city. Since we have no money to pay them, they have abandoned Steelhaven to its fate.’

‘Bloody cowards,’ muttered Marshal Farren, but Bannon ignored him.

‘We estimate the Khurtas are no more than a day’s ride to the north. They will be here soon. Within the city our troops are fatigued, but ready to fight. Lord Marshal Ryder has three hundred Wyvern Guard, Marshal Farren another two hundred Knights of the Blood. General Hawke and I have only five thousand foot and one thousand horse remaining between us, with which to defend the city walls. Our position is grave, Majesty. There are most likely more than forty thousand Khurtas making their way here. I wish I could give you some news to cheer you, tell you we had allies, but there’s no one coming to assist us.’

‘Thank you, Duke Logar,’ replied Janessa. ‘That is most … enlightening.’

More silence, until Tannick Ryder cleared his throat. ‘The walls of Steelhaven are high, Majesty. Impregnable, some say. Amon Tugha’s Khurtas are savages from the steppes of the north; they have no skill at besieging fortress cities.’

General Hawke shook his head. ‘Don’t underestimate them,’ said the old man. ‘They razed Touran and they’ve taken us by surprise at every turn. They have magicks, they have engines of war and they have the Elharim warlord.’

‘What’s the matter with you?’ said Lord Marshal Ryder. ‘You sound as if you’re scared of him. He’s one man leading a bunch of barbarians.’

Duke Logar laid a hand on Tannick’s forearm. ‘General Hawke speaks true. I wish it wasn’t so, but we’ve seen it. On their own, the Khurtas would be easy pickings, but under Amon Tugha they are a force to be reckoned with. They have dogged our every step from Dreldun. He’s outwitted us in every battle.’

‘He won’t outwit us here,’ said Tannick

‘How can you be sure?’ replied Marshal Farren, staring from beneath a creased brow, left eye twitching, his red gauntleted fist clenching as he banged on the table. ‘You weren’t there. You haven’t seen him.’

Tannick Ryder glared across the oak table. ‘I’ll see him soon enough.’

Janessa had witnessed about as much of their posturing as she could bear. If this was what it meant to convene a meeting of her council, she could well do without it.

‘My lords,’ she said, and was relieved when they stopped their bickering and looked at her. ‘I understand you and the armies you lead have been through a great deal these past weeks, and much has been sacrificed for us. For that we are grateful. But Lord Marshal Ryder is correct. We need to look ahead. We must find a way to defeat Amon Tugha and his horde, not dwell on past defeats.’

‘Indeed, Majesty,’ said Duke Logar. ‘We will find a way.’

Janessa nodded her thanks to him, but as she did so she felt a sudden spasm in her gut. Marshal Farren began to speak, but Janessa could barely hear his words. She glanced towards Kaira, who stood motionless a few feet away. Janessa was suddenly desperate to catch Kaira’s eye, but her bodyguard seemed to be listening intently to what Farren was saying and failed to notice.

The room began to swim as the pain in her belly grew. Something stabbed at her from the inside and it took all her will to quell a cry of pain. She could not show weakness in front of these men. She was their queen and despite their experience in war it was expected she would lead them.

Lord Marshal Ryder had joined in now, speaking over Farren. It appeared the two men were at loggerheads but all Janessa could hear was a torrent in her ears. She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. It was no good; she could stand it no longer.

‘My lords,’ she said, rising to her feet. The four men halted their bickering and instantly stood up. ‘I am feeling …’ Another stab at her loins. ‘We will continue this later.’

As she turned, Kaira was at her shoulder, but Janessa shook her head as her bodyguard tried to aid her. Fighting the pain with every step, Janessa walked from the war room as best she could and Kaira closed the door behind her. As soon as it was shut Janessa collapsed against the wall, gritting her teeth in agony.

How she made it back to her chamber she had no idea — she moved through the corridors in a daze. The pain was almost unbearable and it took all her will not to scream.

Once in her chamber Janessa slumped on to her bed. Something ran down her leg as another white-hot stab of pain coursed within her.

‘What is it, Majesty? Shall I summon the surgeon?’

‘Yes,’ Janessa screamed, any thoughts of keeping her unborn child a secret outweighed by her fear and pain.

She pulled up her skirts, feeling blood running in a steady flow between her legs. Kaira had already rushed for assistance, but as the agony inside Janessa reached a peak she knew it was too late.