King's Blades 03 - Sky of Swords Read online

  That evening she held a private party in the

  quarters she had occupied before her departure for

  Ness Royal, and the participants were those who had

  shared them with her--Ruby, Dove, Alys, and

  Sister Moment. Laraine had vanished

  into matrimony, but Lady Arabel had just

  returned from Ness Royal plumper than ever;

  and naturally the three surviving Blades of the

  Princess's Guard were there. The night twinkled

  with music and dancing and brave efforts to be

  merry.

  Next morning, Malinda addressed the Guard

  --not all of them, but the dozen or so who were then

  attending her, for they comprised a fair sampling,

  from Fitzroy, the eldest, down to Vere

  and Terrible, the most junior.

  "You have heard, I am sure," she said, "that

  Parliament has sent me a bill dissolving the

  Order. This is a foggy area of law, because ever

  since Ranulf, the Blades have been regarded as

  being within the royal prerogative. Ironhall

  is paid for out of the privy purse. On the other

  hand, Parliament does vote taxes to cover the

  cost of the Royal Guard, and it did approve the

  Charter, which exempts bound Blades from criminal

  penalties and so on. I do not intend to sign this

  bill."

  They waited in silence. They were bright young men;

  they knew the relevant law and history, but they

  also knew that when Parliament clashed with the

  sovereign, although it might not get all it

  wanted, it rarely came away empty-handed. The

  most affected were the youngsters, who had been sure of

  many years' employment in the Guard, whereas the

  seniors would have already been looking forward to release

  and private life. Eventually Winter took his

  finger from his teeth just long enough to say, "The Commons

  will withhold supply."

  "You are right," Malinda admitted, "up to a

  point. Since this is the first bill they have passed,

  it obviously lies near to the members' hearts.

  They will bluster and blather; they will pass bills,

  motions, and resolutions galore, but eventually

  Parliament and I must come to agreement. The country

  is close to civil war; the burgesses know that and

  do not want it. In the end I must grant

  redress, they must vote supply. If they will not

  see reason, then I will dissolve Parliament and

  run the government on funds gained by suppressing

  evil elementaries." Snake had not clinked any

  gold into her hands yet, though.

  "But--" Winter thought better of what he had

  been about to say and went back to nibbling.

  "But," she said, "Parliament does not want

  me to do that, and knows I would not dare challenge the

  enchanters without you to protect me. There are many

  layers to this. I assure you that if this matter has

  priority with the members, it certainly does with

  me. I am as bound to the Blades as you are

  to me."

  Fitzroy thanked Her Majesty for her

  gracious words. She did not think she had convinced

  her troops.

  Everything fell apart very rapidly after that. The

  Commons began debating the Queen's marriage.

  Malinda summoned the ringleaders, including the

  Speaker, Alfred Kildare. She left them on

  their knees while she roasted them with a tirade on

  the royal prerogative. She warned them that any

  further discussion of that subject would see them all

  in the Bastion. Her father had done it and she would.

  She used words she had overheard in stables.

  At the next meeting of the Privy Council,

  Constable Valdor gave a review of the military

  situation in his bone-grinding bass.

  "Fitzambrose is definitely on the march,"

  he said. "He's bringing all his father's troops

  south from Wylderland, pulling in the garrisons that

  support him. I expect the Black Riders

  will join him. If he meets no resistance, he

  should be here in nine or ten days."

  Studying those coarse and ruthless features,

  Malinda wondered whether Valdor himself would stay

  loyal that long. "How many men?"

  "Probably less than three thousand in

  total, Your Grace, but at least three

  quarters of them are battle-hardened

  professionals. The rest have been intensively

  trained over the last few months."

  "And Courtney?"

  "He hasn't moved yet, that we know of."

  No doubt he was too busy showering the

  nobility with blackmail notes. Courtney would

  always prefer subversion to overt military action,

  in spite of his stunning victory over the Baels

  --or even because of it. Malinda was convinced that the

  true story of that engagement had yet to be told.

  "We estimate the Prince has five or

  six thousand men at his disposal," Valdor

  growled.

  "Not close," Grand Inquisitor snapped

  with the delicacy of a falling tree. "Less than

  half that, and most of them untrained, unequipped

  farm boys."

  "How sure are you?" the Queen asked. She

  no longer believed much of what he told her, but

  she dared not beard the lion until Burningstar

  found a replacement lion. Even the Blades

  might not be able to defend her if Lambskin's

  Dark Chamber supporters chose to retaliate.

  "Courtney had about a thousand when he attacked

  the Baels--he only won because he took them

  by surprise and caught them with their force

  divided. They lost far more men to drowning than--"

  "And the bodies were washed out to sea, of course?"

  "Some of them, Your Grace. Some were washed up

  on the beach. A victorious commander never has

  trouble recruiting, but most of those who have gathered

  under his banner since then are untrained and armed with

  pitchforks." Lambskin's insistence on

  downgrading the Courtney threat did not

  necessarily mean he was not corresponding with

  Neville as well, of course.

  "Constable?" Malinda said.

  Valdor growled. "I agree that he needs

  weapons. The drowned Baels took theirs to the

  bottom with them. You can't buy a good armorer now

  for his weight in rubies. Arms are the biggest

  bottleneck."

  Malinda had always understood that the problem

  bottlenecks were the small ones. Which side was

  Valdor on? Having killed Granville, he

  ought to fear Granville's son, although Souris

  seemed to have made the reverse switch easily

  enough.

  "We cannot assume," the Chancellor said, "that

  they will kill each other off and leave the realm at

  peace. Is it not time and past time, for Her

  Majesty to call up the levies?"

  The bitter truth was that the Chivian crown had

  no permanent army, other than the Household

  Yeomen and the mercenary forces in Wylderland that were

  now supporting Neville. To go to war, Malinda

  must call on the peers to mu
ster and arm their

  tenants; cities would supply money or raise

  regiments. She had wide estates of her own, of

  course, but Granville had drained them of men

  to garrison his strongholds.

  Valdor shrugged. "But how do you arm them? You

  have the same problem as the Prince. Will you fight a

  civil war with fists and pitchforks?"

  "The lords are already arming," Burningstar said

  bitterly. "Half of them have left town. Spirits

  know which side they'll be on in the end."

  "I suspect most of them will lean toward

  Prince Courtney," Malinda said. "Does

  anyone disagree with that? No? So the plan, I

  suppose, is that I am expected to appeal to my

  cousin for help against my nephew, and the price of

  his help will be the crown matrimonial." She

  looked around the table, searching for dissent. "I do

  not--"

  The door flew open. Audley

  jumped like a cricket and came down with sword

  drawn, but the intruder was only Sir Piers--

  hatless, hair in wild disarray, doublet hanging

  open, and half-unlaced shirt exposing an

  extremely furry chest. He stopped just inside

  the doorway, seeming quite unaware of Evening's

  razor edge almost touching his throat.

  "Ironhall!" he howled. "Your Majesty,

  they have sacked Ironhall!" By then the Council

  was on its feet, everyone shouting at once, so the

  rest of his announcement was barely audible. He

  rattled off unfamiliar names ... "rode all

  night ... drove them into the moors ... burned

  ... dead ..." He belatedly went down on one

  knee, and tugged his doublet closed. Audley

  slammed the massive door in the faces of the

  Blades gawking outside.

  Malinda alone had remained seated. Again a

  Blade had brought her a fateful message.

  How many times had that happened in her life?

  Dominic bringing her summons to court and thereby

  provoking Godeleva's suicide. Lord Roland

  telling her of her betrothal to Radgar.

  Marlon's frantic ride to Ness Royal

  to warn of Amby's imminent death. Now Piers.

  She waited until the others sat down again,

  abashed.

  Piers said, "I most humbly beg Your

  Majesty's--"

  "Repeat your report. Who did this?"

  Courtney's men, of course.

  When he had finished, Malinda said, "Thank

  you. You may withdraw. I will address the entire

  Guard in the Rose Hall, right after this meeting.

  Bring as many private Blades as you can find,

  even if you have to drag them there. First I want

  to speak with Sir Dog."

  As the door closed behind the Blade, she

  surveyed the shocked faces of her Privy

  Council.

  "Absolute idiocy!" Constable Valdor

  growled. "What sort of military objective

  was Ironhall? A few boys and old men? If

  that's the best his Isilondian advisors can do,

  the Prince is no threat to her Grace."

  "Parliament will be pleased," the Chancellor

  muttered hoarsely. "That finishes the Blades.

  Popular move."

  "I doubt if that was the main reason,"

  Malinda said. "Now you know how to arm an

  army of farm boys, Constable--there were five thousand

  swords just hanging there for the taking. However, it is

  an act of overt rebellion against the crown.

  Chancellor, summon Parliament into joint

  session. Announce the news and ask for a loyal

  address attainting Courtney a traitor.

  Better prepare a writ of dissolution for my

  seal and take it with you, to be used if necessary, at

  your own discretion. If they get the bit between their

  teeth, send them home."

  "And call out the levies?"

  Malinda thought of men slain, men crippled and

  mutilated, perhaps towns burned, women raped

  ... just so she could choose who would lie in her bed?

  She sighed. "No. I think they would simply

  join one rebel or the other, not me. I am not

  going to throw the land into worse turmoil than it is

  in already. Does anyone have any better ideas?"

  No. Heads shook in morose silence.

  They all knew that it was over.

  When everyone had left, they sent in Dog.

  He glanced curiously around the Council

  Chamber, strode purposefully across to where

  Malinda was standing, crushed her into his arms, and

  kissed her. She had not expected that, but she

  cooperated.

  Then they looked at each other, still embracing.

  "I want you to go first, love," she whispered.

  "They know what you mean to me, so it will help the

  others. Can you do that?"

  His ugly face twisted in pain. "Must this

  be?"

  She nodded. "I'll explain to them. And then

  I want you to do something. This is just as hard for me

  ... I'm going to send Winter and Dian back

  to Ness Royal. I want you to go with them, see

  they arrive safely. Wait there. If I need

  a place to hide, that's best."

  "And who gets you there safely?"

  "I'll set up something with Snake.

  Promise me!"

  Dog argued, of course. He couldn't help but

  argue. She won his promise eventually, but she

  could not be sure that it would last long enough.

  As she entered the Rose Hall, the waiting

  Blades sank to their knees, which was a breach of

  normal procedure, a unique tribute. It

  brought tears to her eyes. It would not

  make things easier. She went to stand behind the red

  cushion that lay on the edge of the dais. She

  looked over the assembled Order--Snake and some

  other knights in the background ... half a

  dozen private Blades also. She gestured for

  them to rise.

  "Ever since Durendal and Ranulf," she

  said, "your Order has been the bulwark of my

  house, an unfailing source of honor and duty,

  of courage and dedication. More than once it saved

  the dynasty. Now, alas, times have changed. The

  Litany itself has perished in flames. The sky

  of swords has fallen."

  She located Dog, at the back. She could not

  read his expression.

  "Worst of all, I must tell you that, through no

  fault of yours, you have become a liability. If

  you insist on remaining to guard me, I shall be in

  greater danger than if you disperse. Your

  predecessors protected my ancestors from

  death, but the rebels who destroyed Ironhall and

  now march on Grandon are intent on marrying me

  off, not beheading me." Courtney, yes, but

  Neville might prefer to avenge his father. "Forced

  marriage is a peril of queens, not kings. From

  choice I would not wed either my royal cousin or

  my nephew, but unwelcome marriage is a

  common fate for women and we survive it. I will

  still be Queen of Chivial. On the other hand, if

  you stand in the rebels' way, they will slay you to the

  last man. It will be a bloody battle, an
d I

  will be blamed for the slaughter. I may even perish

  in it, so you serve me best now by disbanding. I ask

  you all to make this sacrifice. Companion

  Dog?"

  Would he? Could he?

  For a long moment she held her breath. Perhaps

  she had been wrong to ask him. All Blades

  resisted release, although they were usually very glad of

  it afterward. She was counting on Dog's love

  to overcome the conjured reluctance, but perhaps it would

  make the struggle harder for him.

  Then he shouldered Fury and Winter aside and

  strode forward to the cushion. A sigh seemed

  to fill the whole hall. He hesitated again,

  staring at her in puzzled agony, before he drew his

  broadsword and offered it, hilt first. She had

  forgotten how much that great slab of steel weighed.

  He had refused to name it when he was bound, but one

  night at Ness Royal she had teased

  him that it must be called "Sword," and later he

  had shown her that word clumsily scratched on the

  blade near the hilt. She saw it again now:

  Sword.

  Dog never did things by half measures.

  Instead of fumbling to unlace jerkin, doublet, and

  shirt, he just put both hands to his neck and

  ripped, hauling the remains down to his elbows.

  Shoulders bare, he knelt for the dubbing.

  "Arise, Sir Dog."

  She returned Sword to him. As he backed

  away, rubbing his eyes, Audley turned to face

  the throng. "Companion Dominic!"

  Dominic hesitated, face twisted in

  horror. Bloodfang shoved him and he stumbled

  forward.

  "Arise, Sir Dominic ..."

  "Companion Oak!"

  Dog took Oak by the elbow and delivered him

  to the cushion as surely as a team of horses would

  have done.

  "Arise, Sir Oak."

  Dominic brought the one after, and then the pattern

  was set. A few wept, but none of the Guard

  made a serious attempt to resist.

  Sir Reynard ... Sir Brock ...

  Sir Crenshaw ...

  Most of the private Blades had to be dragged

  forward, although not one drew his sword or tried

  to flee. Normally only the death of his ward could

  release a private Blade, but in this dissolution

  of the entire Order, the effort was worth making. It

  might work for some of them.

  And last of all: "Arise Sir Audley

  ...

  "I thank you all from the bottom of my

  heart," Malinda said, "and wish you long life and

  happiness. The Treasury will distribute some

  funds ... not nearly what you have earned, but all