The Shattered Crown

EPILOGUE

They called it Aluk Vadir. It was a bustling port, not like Steelhaven, not huge and imposing, but it had still been busy in recent days. River guessed busier than it had been in many years.

A score of battleships, each carrying a huge trebuchet, had already set sail from the dock, making their way across the Midral Sea. River watched that dock from the balcony of a chamber set high up on the side of a smooth-sided tower. But his mind was not troubled by the ships that even now were making their way towards his home.

All River could think of were the men he had killed.

Forest had told him there were only five men. Just five, and evil men at that. River had considered that an acceptable number. Only it hadn’t been just five, it had been those five men and their guards, their sentries and, when necessary, their servants. River had found the old ways, the killing ways, had come back to him all too easily.

As he stood there on that high balcony in the stifling night heat, he was filled with regret. Regret for all the lives he had taken. If Jay knew what he had done she would hate him for it. She was gentle, an innocent soul, and she would never understand, even though he had only done it for her. To protect her from the Father of Killers.

And what else could he have done? He had made a vow, and to the Father of Killers no less.

River turned as he heard the old man fumble his key in the lock of the door. As he entered River caught his scent, unwashed and musky, wine on his breath and the aroma of pipe smoke on his clothes.

Abda Jadi shuffled inside, closing the door behind him. He had been the one to give River his targets at Keidro Bay. He had been the one to draw up the contract River had presented to his marks, written in strange foreign script and eventually signed in blood.

‘A quiet night out,’ said the old man. ‘Streets are all but deserted now the last of the ships is making ready to leave.’

The last of the ships that would bring carnage to Steelhaven. River clenched his fists, feeling remorse for his part in it.

‘Our business is done then?’ asked River.

‘Yes, I suppose it is,’ replied the old man. He was staring, his fingers toying with the soiled white robe that covered his body. River saw a bead of sweat run from beneath Abda’s headwrap.

Something was wrong. It was hot, but this old man was used to it. Surely he would not be sweating unless …

River ducked on instinct, dropping to the floor as something tore through the air. The arrow whipped in, cutting through where he had been standing a moment before. Abda Jadi was not so quick, taking the arrow in his throat.

As the old man staggered back, gripping his neck, River pulled out his blades. The assassin burst through the window, his weapons already drawn.

‘Forest,’ River had time to whisper, before he was on the back foot, his blades quick to parry the rapier and poniard that cut in at his face.

This could not be. He had made a vow. The Father of Killers had promised him.

But had he? He had only promised Jay would live — he had never promised to spare River.

Forest said nothing, attacking with all the speed and venom River had come to expect from his brother. At first River was hard pressed to parry the blows, and Forest’s rapier cut a line through his jerkin, slashing the flesh. He ignored the pain, twisting aside, grabbing Abda Jadi, who still stumbled in his death throes, and thrusting him towards Forest.

His brother just pushed the old man out of the way and took a step back, breathing hard from his exertions. It was clear his skills were rusty and he had not fought for a while, but then it was a long journey from Steelhaven. River on the other hand, still had the killer in him.

The two went at each other again, the only sound their weapons ringing off one another. As Forest’s rapier came down in another thrust, River caught the guard in one of his blades, twisting it and pulling it from his grip. He ducked Forest’s short blade and hooked his own weapon behind his brother’s leg. It sliced Forest’s calf and he grunted in pain, staggering as River stabbed in again, taking Forest in the forearm and causing him to drop his poniard.

With the advantage of his momentum, River bore down, knocking his brother back. They both fell to the ground and River held one blade to his brother’s throat, the other raised for the killing blow. Abda Jadi had breathed his last and with the old man’s dying gasps finished, there was silence in the room.

Forest smiled. It was obvious he was in pain, but he fought it, just as River would have done.

‘What are you waiting for, brother?’ he asked. ‘Do it.’

River stared into Forest’s eyes. There was no fear there. It was as though he wanted to die. As though he had been waiting for it, expecting it, yearning for it.

‘Why have you come here? Why not just let me go?’

‘The Father will never let you go, River. Just like he will never let her go.’

‘He made a vow.’

‘He does not honour vows with traitors,’ Forest replied, seeming to take some small delight in River’s unease. ‘He owes you nothing. By now she is most likely dead. Her city will fall soon after.’

River growled, raising his blade to strike.

But this was his brother. He had already killed one, could he really kill another?

River stood, looking down at Forest bleeding on the floor of the chamber. His brother was helpless and gravely wounded. He would be lucky to survive. Perhaps he was best left to the fates.

‘Do not follow me, brother,’ River said. ‘If you ever come back to Steelhaven, I will kill you.’

Forest did not answer. If he lived, perhaps he would heed his brother’s warning.

Perhaps not.

Without another word, River ran for the window and leapt out onto an adjacent rooftop. What little breeze there was sweeping in from the Midral was warm, almost inviting.

The dock was not far from the tower, and River ran the whole way. He could see the last ship was almost ready to cast off and he rushed to the end of the pier where men were busying themselves loading the last of the ship’s supplies. Without a word River joined them, taking a wooden crate from one of the dock labourers and making his way up the gangplank. No one paid him any attention as he walked onto the ship’s deck. No one said a word as he laid down the crate and made his way to the bow. No one saw as he crouched low in the shadows and waited for the captain to call for sail as they cast off.

As the ship cruised out of dock and made its way northward, River could not take his eyes off the far horizon. It might be days before he saw Steelhaven, and he knew each one of those days would be torment until he knew whether Jay was still alive.

River had to believe she was. If she were not, he vowed that there would be more deaths.

Many more deaths.