Kingdom Of Royth

When the man had vanished into the night, the countess said, «For our part, it is time to go to the palace and alert the King. I have with me all the written evidence needed to convince even Pelthros, including your notes from your stay on Neral.»

«How did you get those? I thought Indhios had them concealed safely.»

«They were safe, until Indhios boasted too long to one of his henchmen. He no longer trusts me enough to speak before me, but his vanity has not changed. The man wanted me to come to his bed, and it was easy to raid his strongbox while he slept afterwards.» She shivered with disgust at the memory. «Once we have Pelthros convinced, it should be easy. Indhios has only a few supporters among the courtiers, and I can rely on you to deal with them properly if they appear. The Royal Guard is mostly loyal to Pelthros. If they are alerted, they can easily defend the palace against Indhios' faction until the loyal troops come up. If we can only convince Pelthros and then keep him alive long enough to give the necessary orders. .» Her jaw set, but her eyes were anything but grim, gleaming with her own joy of battle and the hope of seeing her plans all come to fruition. «But we need no more talking. It is time to leave.»

There were horses for all of them ready in a stable on the other side of the shed. As greatly as he wanted to break into a gallop, Blade kept his mount reined in to a trot all the way to the palace. It loomed high and somber in the night, with only the few gleams of light that marked the sentries' posts still breaking the darkness. As King's Champion, Blade could pass anywhere without question, even into the personal presence of the King with no permission other than the King's own. So the sentries at the outer gates passed them through without question once they recognized Blade.

Once inside, however, Blade kept his hand on his sword as they moved down the long, dark corridors towards the royal apartments. He cursed Pelthros' frugality that led to the palace being largely in darkness. If Indhios had any of his allies prowling in this darkness, they might have to fight their way through against men who knew the palace better than he did. Blade almost wanted to take off his boots and pad forward on his bare feet, as their footfalls echoed from the stone around them seemingly loud enough to shake the whole palace and wake the long-dead Kings of Royth in their tombs far below. But as they twisted and turned their way closer to their goal, the palace might still have been a city of the dead.

They saw nothing to start at but their own shadows when they passed through an area lighted by a feeble torch or a few candles and finally reached the small, square chamber that lay at the foot of the stairs leading to the actual private chambers of King Pelthros. Four soldiers were on duty in the chamber, tough young men in chased silver cuirasses and open-faced helms, officers from the elite Royal Guard. Now, though, the light of the bronze chandelier hanging from the roof of the chamber showed the hard, ta

Blade had no authority over the Royal Guard by law, but he had contrived friendships (or at least mutual trust) with some of the officers. Unfortunately, none of the ones he knew well were among the four on duty. The one who had yawned was a captain he knew only by name; the others he had never even seen.

«Good evening, Captain Tralthos.»

«Morning, rather, Champion Blade. It's well on toward the second hour. What brings you here? And who are these people?»

«The Countess Indhios and three of her household.» Tralthos' eyes widened at the name. «We have urgent business with His Majesty.»

«Hand the message over and I'll see that it gets delivered to him the first thing in the morning,» said Tralthos wearily.

«It must be delivered to His Majesty personally. And immediately.»

Tralthos looked openly truculent. Blade could hardly blame the man. Or perhaps Indhios had managed to suborn some of the Palace Guard after all? A distinctly unpleasant thought. For a long moment Blade and Tralthos glared at each other in a direct confrontation of will power. At the end of that moment, it was Tralthos who gave way.

«All right,» he grumbled, unable to manage his surrender with grace. «I'll go on up and wake the King.»

«Do that,» said Blade shortly. «And hurry, if you love your King!» He was feeling distinctly edgy. No premonitions of trouble-yet-but they could still be confounded and slain if a dozen of Indhios' bravos charged out of the darkness. He turned back to look at the long corridor. Nothing moved in it, out to the end of the torchlight where walls, floor, and ceiling all merged into blackness. Not yet.

Tralthos vanished up the stairs to the royal chambers. They saw his torch flicker its way up to the small door at the top, heard him knock, listened as he did for the response, then heard a door latch disengaged and a squeak of hinges as the door opened and he vanished through it.

Although they almost stopped breathing, in the vague murmur of words floating down the stairs to them they could still distinguish neither voices nor words. It occurred to Blade that it would be a monumental jest of the gods if the Kingdom of Royth were to fall to the Neraler pirates because its King objected to being awakened at two in the morning.

Then his speculation ended abruptly as Tralthos closed the door and came back down the stairs. «His Majesty will receive Champion Blade and the Countess Indhios, but the others must remain here.» Blade nodded. «Also, you must leave your weapons down here.»

Before Blade could explode in a futile and disastrous outburst of rage against all this timidity and bureaucracy, the countess laid a hand on his arm and said swiftly, «We agree. Lead us to the King,» to Tralthos, and in a half-whisper to Blade, «Silence! Would you smash everything when we are so close?» Blade's temptation was to point out that they were not yet so close that they could not be interrupted-permanently-but Tralthos was already on his way back up the stairs and motioning them to follow him.

They found the King sitting on the edge of his bed, the blankets thrown back and the pillows shoved into a massive white pile in one corner. The bed itself was a huge canopied affair easily large enough to accommodate five people, hung with black brocade embroidered with red silk castles. Pelthros had pulled on a dark green chamber robe and belted his sword on over it. Otherwise he was barefoot, unkempt, with his thick salt-and-pepper beard and his not-so-thick gray hair sticking out in all directions, red-eyed and baleful in the glare he threw at the two visitors.

Blade let the countess explain their visit. She was more fluent in the Court formulas of speech, and had a strong personal incentive for making herself as conspicuous as possible in the King's eyes. Blade had no particular interest in politics any longer except insofar as it was necessary to convince Pelthros of the threat. After that, he wanted only to work his way through the ranks of the enemy with his sword, starting with Indhios.

«Your Majesty,» began the countess. «When your late brother, the Grand Duke Khystros, brought an accusation against Count Indhios, that the Chancellor was plotting to betray the Kingdom to the Neraler pirates, he spoke the truth.» That, at least, gained her the King's attention. Then she moved into a rapid summary of what Indhios was plotting, what the pirates were plotting, who was allied with them-and how she and Blade had found out what they knew.

«And if you seek evidence that would stand before a Grand Court, then consider this-and this-and this,» hauling notes and documents from the flowing sleeves of her gown. Blade could not help admiring the countess at this moment as she stood there, rendered formidable by her keen wits as well as by her beauty. If by some strange chain of events she did mount the throne of Royth beside Pelthros, then perhaps the Kingdom would finally have the political skill in high places that it so sadly lacked and so badly needed.