Stephen Deas - The King of the Crags

And after that, all he had to do was wait.

Jehal returned a week later. Meteroa met him with a hundred and one riders, all dressed in grey. I'm sorry to do this to you, my king, but the facade must be perfect. Still, he wasn't quite ready for the ice in Jehal's eyes.

'Did you do it,' he asked, 'or did Zafir?' His face was as still as death. Meteroa bowed and then leaned forward and embraced his king. One of the privileges of family. As he did, he whispered in Jehal's ear.

'Neither, my king.'

Jehal let out a roar of rage and pushed him to the ground. 'Don't play riddles with me, Eyrie-Master. Who killed my wife?'

Meteroa picked himself up. 'I have the assassin's body,' he said carefully.

'I want to see Lystra. And then… remember what I said, uncle. What happens to her happens to you.'

Meteroa bowed again. A week with the Scales? Perhaps I should have kill her after all.

'I want to see her right now, Meteroa. Where is she? If you've burned her already, I swear I'll…'

'She's in the mausoleum, Your Holiness.'

No standing on ceremony. Meteroa watched his king barge past and head straight for the caves. So now we know which of your two women matters to you the most, eh? Meteroa kept his distance, smiling quietly to himself. Jehal wasn't usually the sort for sudden explosions of temper, but you never knew. Squeeze a man hard enough and anything can happen. I taught that to you all and how many of you bothered to listen? He followed Jehal all the way down to the black stone tunnels of the mausoleum, waving away the token guards standing watch over the body. 'That's not her.' Jehal spun around.

Meteroa glanced at the retreating guards. 'She's been here a while, Your Holiness.'

'That's not her!' Jehal lunged, reaching for Meteroa's throat. Meteroa dodged away. I could break your arm, boy, if I wanted to.

'No, it's not.' He spoke softly, even though the guards were gone. Words had ways of resonating in caves.

'Eyrie-Master!'

Meteroa jumped at Jehal and grabbed his shirt, pinning him against the rough stone. 'She is safe, Your Holiness,' he hissed as softly as he could. 'She is safe because the people who want to kill her think she is dead. Frankly, I had no idea what to make of your stupid letter. What did you think I was going to do? Kill her myself? Your father's dead, your brother's dead and from the sounds of things you're as useless at making heirs as I am now. Did you think I was going to take a blind bit of notice? She's carrying your heir, Jehal. Our heir.' There. It's been a very long time since you've seen me as I used to be. I imagine you'd very nearly forgotten.

'I didn't want her dead.'

'Someone does.'

'Zafir.'

'No. Not Zafir.' Meteroa let go of Jehal and held up his hands. 'Well yes, Zafir, but not just her. There was another killer. You need to see him. In the dungeons.'

'I'm not telling the world that Lystra's dead.'

'She's safe for now. In a couple of weeks she'll give birth. We can put them both somewhere safe. Apart. Or you can get rid of her, which is probably what you ought to do but… what?'

'I'm not telling the world that Lystra's dead.'

Meteroa pursed his lips. 'Listen. This wasn't Zafir, this was the Taiytakei. They waited until Zafir had failed a few times and then they finally sent one of their own. This is not some killer off the streets of the Silver City. This is an assassin who can meld with the earth, who can turn into water, who can become a gust of wind and blow through a window. I've met them before. They may be the most dangerous men in the world and they are certainly the most expensive. The Taiytakei. We've always known what they want, haven't we? They want dragons. They want hatchlings and they want potions and they want alchemists. Did you ever stop to wonder what happened to our grand-master alchemist Bellepheros after your wedding? And ever since, I've been asking myself: why did they give you such a priceless gift? Have you not stopped to wonder about that?' Probably not. Too much vanity to question gifts, eh boy? 'So they give you a priceless treasure and then they try to kill your wife. Why?' His eyes narrowed. 'They want you with Zafir, but why? Why why why?'

'The Taiytakei?' Jehal for once looked like he barely knew where he was.

Poor boy. It's all getting too much, is it? 'If I were to guess, I would say that Zafir – or someone – has promised them what they want.' Meteroa patted him on the shoulder. You killed my brother. Not that he didn't deserve it, but he was mine. 'You wanted to be king, remember? So now you have another reason to stop her.'

'Fine.' Jehal shrugged him off. 'Then get my dragons ready, Eyrie-Master. All of them. We're going to war. How soon can it be done?'

'We're only waiting for you, Your Holiness, nothing else. Just one itsy question: who are we fighting?'

For the first time since he'd landed, Jehal smiled. It was the twisted, lopsided smile of someone who had something broken on the inside. Our family smile. 'Why, I'm going to the Adamantine Palace, Uncle, to fight the speaker's war. You, though… I have something else in mind for you. You can take a few of my dragons and follow along later. Go via the Pinnacles and clear the air for me there.' His smile slipped into a sneer. 'And if you really believe what you say of the Taiytakei, you can burn every one of their ships in the harbour before you leave.'

Meteroa felt himself nodding. 'To war then, my king?'

'To war.' Jehal threw back his head and laughed. 'Our war.' He nodded at the swollen body laid out in the mausoleum. 'Now get rid of that and bring me back my queen. Oh, and send a letter to Jaslyn. Tell her that from now on wherever I go, her sister goes with me. Perhaps that will keep her dragons in their eyries.'

'I wouldn't count on it.'

I won t.

Vale Tassan stood in the Chamber of Audience. Arrayed in front of him was what passed for yet another council of kings of queens. With one king and one queen. Worse than the council that put Shezira to death. Nonetheless, he stood there and he told them what the speaker wanted them to hear. They heard of two survivors from the Red Riders who had been taken alive. Two survivors whose confessions Vale had taken. Whose confessions clearly implicated Queen Almiri in their revolt. He watched them nod or shake their heads.

There. I have done my duty. I have obeyed my speaker without question. When he finished there was a bitter taste in his mouth, but as he looked at their faces he understood perfectly that the truth had never actually mattered in the first place. For some reason that made him almost intolerably angry.

'Survivors?' Prince Tichane raised an eyebrow. 'From a dragon fight? That's quite unusual, Night Watchman. What state were they in?'

They were dead. But I can't say that. 'Poor, Your Highness. Very poor. I was surprised that they could be brought to talk at all.' 'Tooth marks?'

Vale bowed. 'I did not examine them, Your Highness. There was a physician. I'm sure he could answer such questions.' Yes, let's bring the blood-mage up here and see what he has to say for himself. He sighed and looked around the council. Half the realms don't even have a voice here.

'Who here will speak for Queen Jaslyn and Queen Almiri?' asked Lord Eisal.

Zafir sniffed. 'They didn't come. That they cannot be bothered to even defend themselves speaks of their guilt, does it not?'

Fisal glowered. 'Does Almiri even know we're holding this council? Does her sister?'

King Silvallan, King of Bazim Crag and the Oordish Moors and as much Zafir's puppet as King Narghon was Jehal's, rolled his eyes and spat. 'What about her? Queen Almiri's guilt has long been obvious, and she wouldn't act alone. I don't know why we're even bothering with this.'