Stephen Deas: The King of the Crags

'Is there a body, Your Holiness?' he asked.

Jehal stopped. He whipped around to glare at Vale. 'She was ripped to pieces and eaten.'

'The Lesser Council will convene to hear your claim, Your Holiness. They will ask.'

'I have her dragon, Tassan, That's all that's left of her.'

'You don't have the Speaker's Ring then? Do you have her spear at least?'

'She was flying to war, Night Watchman; she left that here. Why don't you get it for me?'

Vale was careful not to smile. He bowed his head. 'I will call the Lesser Council, Your Holiness. I shall ask them to convene tomorrow at dawn. May I ask what became of Evenspire? And of the treacherous Queen Almiri? They will ask that too.'

'Evenspire lies in ashes, Night Watchman, and you can request they convene sooner than that. As for Almiri, she was no traitor and I have no idea if she's dead. If it amuses you, I shall guess and say she is still alive.'

Vale bowed. 'As you command, Your Holiness. The Lesser Council may ask for more evidence than your word and a dragon, but I shall convey your words.' Arrogant prick. Do you really think I'm going to let you have Zafir's throne? You, of all people? He watched Jehal limp slowly across the Gateyard towards the Tower of Dusk. At least at the speed he now moved, the servants there would have plenty of time to get ready for him. When Jehal was gone he sent his soldiers back to their duties and then went looking for Jeiros. The alchemist was where he'd left him, still standing on top of the Gatehouse. Vale settled beside him, watching the dragons at the palace eyries.

'The little shit wants us to make him speaker.' He watched Jeiros' face carefully. The alchemist did well. He blinked a few times, that was all.

'Zafir is dead then?'

'So he says. He says he fought her himself and demands her throne by right of conquest until a full council can be called.' 'He knows his history.'

'He knows his Principles. I don't think he knows much of anything else, and the best I can think of to do with Principles is to wipe my arse with it.'

The alchemist shrugged. 'There is a precedent. The realms need a speaker.'

Vale spat. 'He can't even prove that Zafir is dead. He's got her dragon. He doesn't have her ring.'

'The spear?'

'He says she left it here.

Jeiros turned towards Vale and frowned.. 'Does he? I throught so too, but it's not here, It should be in Chamber of Audience but it's not. I assumed Zafir took it with her.

'He wants me to call the Lesser Council.'

'Which means you and me.'

'And Aruch, who will do what you tell him.' Vale permitted himself a smile. 'Your choice, Grand Master. Who's it going to be?'

'What would you do, Vale?'

'Me?' Vale laughed. 'I might thank him for ridding us of Zafir, but I'd still hang him in one of her cages outside the gates. Frankly I'd hang them both. Evenspire burns, he says. A city full of people set to flames and for what? Yes, if it was me I'd craft a cage for him with my own hands. But then I'm not entitled to an opinion, I'm just a servant.'

Jeiros pursed his lips. Vale could see a lot of thinking going on. 'The realms need a speaker, Vale. The battle went badly, even I can see that. He has Zafir's dragon. Some will say that is proof enough. If we refuse him, what then? We stand alone against every realm and that is not our duty; our duty is to keep the realms' dragons in check. Yet as you said, Vale, when a dragon burns you, it makes little difference whether it has a rider on their back as it does so; the flames are still the same. This war must end now. Jehal was trying to do that. That's why Zafir put him in the Tower of Dusk. No, I will not stand in his way. I dare say he will not survive a vote from the full council when one can finally be called. Until then, any speaker is better than none.'

'Even the Viper?'

'Even the devil, Night Watchman.'

Vale shrugged. 'Then I will bow to your wisdom, Master Jeiros. The next time you stand here, you may be able to see me in one of those cages out there.'

'Jehal needs you. I will not allow it.'

'But he will be speaker. He will not need our opinions.'

Jeiros cocked his head. 'I think in these unusual times he might find that he does. See it this way, Vale. See him as ours. The speaker is always as much a servant of the realms as you or I.'

'I somehow doubt King Jehal will agree.'

'Then we will make him. Besides, however much we may wish for it, we cannot be sure that Speaker Zafir is dead. If she was eaten in battle we may not be sure for a very long time. I think King Jehal can merely act as a speaker under our guidance until we are. There are precedents here too.'

The Night Watchman laughed. 'Until some dragon shits out the Adamantine Spear? You've come a long way, Grand Master.'

'I wonder sometimes if the realms wouldn't be better off without dragons. If I knew of a way we could rid ourselves of them, I think I would do it. But we can't. They always come back.'

'So Jehal gets what he wants.'

'Under sufferance, Vale. But yes, for now he does. I see no other choice.'

One false move, Viper, and nothing will save you. Vale smiled to himself. 'If you find that you do not have enough potion and it is necessary to poison a few of them to keep their numbers down, I will do nothing to stand in your way. I thought you might want to know that.'

Jehal lay on his bed in the Tower of Dusk. His sickbed, where Jeiros had tended to his wound. He stared at the ceiling. This is the last time. I will never lie here again. Tomorrow I will be in the Speaker's Tower or I will be dead. He wondered idly whether he had enough riders to seize the palace by force. Probably not. Which means I am in the hands of Jeiros and the Night Watchman, and I know that at least one of them despises me.

The realms need a speaker. Principles opened with those words.

One of the palace servants knocked on his door and slipped inside. The girl bowed so low that her face almost scraped the floor. 'Grand Master Jeiros, Your Holiness.'

So now we shall find out. 'Send him in.'

The girl left. After a few seconds the alchemist came in. Jehal sat up in his bed. 'Have you come to dress my wound again, Master Jeiros?'

'It is the realms who are wounded, King Jehal. Will you dress that wound? Will you bring us peace?' 'I will do my best, Grand Master.'

Jeiros bowed his head. 'You should know that We cannot name you speaker until Zafir has been proven to be dead. 'She was eaten by a dragon, Master Jeiros.'

'Yes, Your Holiness, and there are precedents for this. If Zafir does not set foot within the Adamantine Palace within the next one hundred and one days, the Lesser Coucil will recognise that she is dead. On that day I will summon the kings and queens of the nine realms to name another. I cannot promise it will be you.'

'Then I have a hundred days to prove I am worthy, do I?'

The alchemist looked up and met his eye. 'Yes, Your Holiness. That would seem to be the ease. Tomorrow the Lesser Council will name you speaker for a hundred days. I have nothing to offer you as a sign of your office. No ring, no spear.'

The Adamantine Spear. One day you'll probably try to take it and find that I got there first. The blood-mage. That's what he'd wanted.

'Zafir did not have the spear with her, Jeiros.' And he never even came for his gold. I wonder why.

'It is a symbol, Your Holiness. Its powers are a myth.'

'Really?' Let it go. It's really not that important to you.

'We will make another.' The alchemist reached out a hand and offered something to Jehal. A letter. 'This came for you while you were at war. A dragon from the Pinnacles.'

The writing and the seal were Meteroa's. So he's taken the Pinnacles. Zafir's reign is truly over. The War of Thorns finally ends.