Gregory Keyes - The Charnel Prince

“Your Grace, I’m a part of this. I’ll stay.”

Aspar found himself standing suddenly. “Winna, I forbid—”

“Hush, you great bear,” Winna said. “When could you ever forbid me?”

“This time I do!” Aspar said.

“Silence, please,” the praifec said. He focused his raptor eyes on Aspar. “It’s her choice.”

“And she’s made it,” Winna said.

“Think carefully, my dear,” the praifec said.

“It’s done, Your Grace,” Winna replied.

The praifec nodded. “Very well.”

He placed his hand on the shoulder of the boy, who had sat silent through all of this. He had black hair and eyes to match, and his skin was dark, darker than Aspar’s.

“Allow me to present Ehawk, of the Wattau, a tribe from the Mountains of the Hare. You know of them, perhaps, Holter White.”

“Yah,” Aspar answered curtly. His mother had been Wattau, his father an Ingorn. The child they bore had never been welcome in either village.

The praifec nodded again. “The events you three have been a part of are of great concern to the Church, most especially the appearance of the so-called Briar King. Up until now, we have considered him to be nothing more than a folktale, a lingering superstition, perhaps inspired by an illiterate memory of the Warlock Wars or even the Captivity, before our ancestors broke the shackles of the demons who enslaved them. Now that he has appeared, of course, we must reassess the state of our knowledge.”

“If I may, Your Grace, my report—” Stephen began.

“I have read your reports, of course,” Hespero said. “Your work on the subject is laudable, but you lack the full resources of the Church. There is, in holy z’Irbina, a certain set of volumes which may be read only by His Holiness the Fratrex Prismo. Immediately on hearing of the events at Cal Azroth, I sent word to z’Irbina, and word has now come back to me.” He paused.

“Word and more,” he continued. “I will explain that later. Anyway, at the time I did not feel that I could wait to hear from z’Irbina. I sent, under Church auspices, an expedition to track this— creature , and to learn more of it. The expedition was a strong one; a knight of the Church and five monks of Mamres. They hired Ehawk in his village to act as a guide. Ehawk will now relate what he saw.”

“Ah,” Ehawk said. His accent was thick, and it was that of someone not used to speaking the king’s tongue. “Hello to you.” He fixed his eyes on Aspar. “I’ve heard of you, Sir Holter. I thought you’d be taller. It’s said your arrows are the size of spears.”

“I’ve shrunk down for His Grace,” Aspar grunted. “What did you see, boy, and where did you see it?”

“It in the territory of the Duth ag Pae, near Aghdon. One of the monks—Martyn—heard something. And there they were.”

“They?”

“Men and women, but like beasts. They wore nothing; they carried no weapons. They tore up poor Sir Oneu with their bare hands and teeth. A madness was upon them.”

“Where did they come from?”

“They were the Duth ag Pae, I’m sure of it. Maybe all of them, except no children. There were old people, though.” He shuddered. “They ate the monks’ flesh as they killed them.”

“Do you know what might have driven them to madness?”

“It’s not just them, Sir Holter. As I fled, I came across village after village, all abandoned. I hid in holes and under leaves, but they found my horse and tore her up. I heard them at night, singing songs in no speech of the mountains.”

“But you escaped them.”

“Yah. When I left the forest, I left them. I came here because Martyn wished it.”

“Martyn was one of my most trusted servants,” the praifec amplified, “and very powerful in Mamres.”

“What sort of madness sweeps whole villages?” Stephen wondered.

“The old women . . .” Ehawk began; then his voice trailed off.

“It’s all right, Ehawk,” the praifec said reassuringly. “Speak what you will.”

“It’s one of the prophecies. They said that when the Etthoroam wakes, he will claim all in the forest for his own.”

“Etthoroam,” Stephen said. “I’ve seen that name. It’s what your people name the Briar King.”

Ehawk nodded.

“Aspar,” Winna murmured. “Colbaely is in the King’s Forest. My father. My family.”

“Colbaely is far from the country of the Duth ag Pae,” Aspar said.

“How does that matter, if what this boy says is true?”

“She has a point,” Stephen said.

“They are not confined to the depths,” the praifec said. “We’ve had reports of fighting in towns all along the edge of the King’s Forest, at least in the east.”

“Your Grace, you must pardon me,” Aspar said.

“For what crime?”

“Pardon me to leave. I’m the king’s holter. The forest is in my charge. I have to see this for myself.”

“Yes, to that second point I agree. As to the first—you are no longer the king’s holter.”

“What?”

“I petitioned His Majesty to have you placed under my command. I need you, Aspar White. No one knows the forest as you do. You’ve faced the Briar King and lived—not once, but twice.”

“But he’s been a holter all his life!” Stephen exploded. “Your Grace, you can’t just—!”

The praifec’s voice was suddenly not soft. “I most certainly can, Brother Darige. I can and I have. And in point of fact, your friend is still a holter—the Church’s holter. What greater honor could he hope for?”

“But—” Stephen began again.

“If it’s all the same, Stephen,” Aspar said quietly, “I can speak for myself.”

“Please do,” the praifec urged.

He looked the praifec straight in the eye. “I don’t know much about courts or kings or praifecs,” he admitted. “I’m told I have few manners, and those I have are bad ones. But it seems to me, Your Grace, that you might have asked me before telling me.”

Hespero stared at him for a moment, then shrugged. “Very well. You have a point. I suppose I was letting my anxiety for the people of Crotheny and the greater world muddy my concern for the personal wishes of one man. I can always ask the king to change his decree—so I’ll ask you now.”

“What exactly is it Your Grace is requesting?”

“I want you to go to the King’s Forest and discover what is really happening there. I want you to find the Briar King, and I want you to kill him.”

A moment’s silence followed the praifec’s words. He sat there, watching them as if he had just asked that they go hunting and return with some fresh deer meat.

“Kill him,” Aspar said carefully, after a moment.

“Indeed. You killed the greffyn, did you not?”

“And it nearly killed Aspar,” Winna interjected. “It would have killed him, except that the Briar King somehow healed him.”

“You’re sure of that?” the praifec said. “Do you discount the saints and their work so easily? They do keep an eye on human affairs, after all.”

“The point is, Your Grace,” Stephen said, “that we do not know precisely what happened that day, what the Briar King is, or what he truly portends. We don’t know that the Briar King should be slain, and we do not know if he can be slain.”

“He can be slain, and he must be slain,” Hespero said. “This can slay him.” He lifted a long, narrow leather case from behind his desk. It looked old, and Aspar saw some sort of faded writing stamped on it.

“This is one of the most ancient relics of the Church,” the praifec said. “It has been waiting for this day, and for someone to wield it. The Fratrex Prismo cast the auguries, and the saints have revealed their will.”