of Vod. Vireon would rule the City of Men and Giants now… as soon as his mother relinquished the throne or joined Tadarus in the vault.
The ceremony ended with the singing of a dirge by the Uduru. It was the song of a warrior who died in battle, a plea that his soul be taken into the House of the Gods. When the last of their umbling basso voices faded, the calm of winter filled the courtyard, and the Princes gathered in the dining hall.
A banquet in Tadarus’ name began without the presence of the Queen. The Princes sat about her empty chair while captains, advisors, and chancellors lined the rest of the long table. Servants brought dish after dish of steaming poultry and meats, glazed vegetables, fine cheeses, towers of skewered fruit, and carafes of blood-dark wine. None would touch the food until the Queen arrived. By that time the men had been drinking for an hour, Vireon and Fangodrim sharing their memories of Tadarus. The specter of sorrow, while not completely gone, had faded like smoke into the air, and wistful laughter began to slip across the board.
Queen Shaira emerged in a plum gown and a slim silver crown bearing diamonds. The black shawl still hung about her shoulders. Her eyes, though wiped clear of tears and lined with kohl, were red and swollen. She accepted a cup of the rich wine and drank deeply from it.
“Eat,” she said in a gentle voice. “And drink to the memory of Tadarus.”
“To Tadarus, Prince of Udurum, True Son of Vod!” toasted Fangodrim. Along the great table, sixty cups were raised and sixty voices joined him.
Tyro sat to the left of Vireon, who kept Alua on his right. Tyro asked why there were no other Giants present.
“This feast is for immediate family and the persons of court, those who served Tadarus,” said Vireon. “Fangodrim is our uncle. Also, the Uduru usually do not eat for several days after a funeral.”
Fangodrim the Gray drank deeply but touched none of the fine food. The rest of the attendees were not so shy. The day had been long and most were famished. As for the Princes who had come across the Grim Mountains, this was the best food they had eaten since leaving Uurz. Even lean Andoses ate like a starved man. His recovery from the ordeal at Steephold was nearly complete.
Alua picked at her food, eating only a little meat, despite Vireon’s prompting. The girl was most strange. There must be quite a tale behind Vireon’s love for her. Tyro would ask for it later.
The Queen seemed restless and barely touched her food. After a few more toasts in the name of Tadarus, she turned to quiet D’zan.
“Do you miss your homeland, Prince?” asked Shaira.
D’zan washed down a mouthful of fowl with a gulp of wine. “Very much, Majesty,” he said. “I miss the sea… the people… my father and uncle.”
“Tell me how you lost the throne, if you will.”
D’zan described the terrible night of Elhathym’s assault on the city. Those near him lost their appetites when he spoke of the dead rising from their tombs. He praised the Stone, whom he called his uncle, and described their narrow escape on a northbound vessel, their arrival in Murala, their trek across the Stormlands to Uurz. He seemed unable to stop talking, as if telling this tale was a great relief, a burden lifted from his shoulders. Finally, he told her of his first night in Uurz, when the Death-Bringers of Khyrei stole the life of Olthacus the Stone. Tyro still felt the shame of that attack burning in his own breast. It should never have happened under Dairon’sders o roof. All the more reason to make Khyrei answer for its actions.
“You have suffered much,” said the Queen. She leaned across the table and took D’zan’s hand. “More than one of your age should have to bear. That you survive is a testament to your strength of mind and body.”
D’zan seemed lost in his thoughts, reliving all that he had related. Andoses spoke for him. Tyro glanced at the Sharrian, hoping he would not seem too eager. The Queen was in a fragile state now. They could not press her into war. They must be subtle and let her come to the decision on her own. He trusted that Andoses understood this.
“Prince D’zan’s journey thus far is the stuff of legends,” said Andoses. “Why, Lyrilan here is writing it all into his book.”
The Queen looked at Lyrilan. “True,” said the Scholar-Prince. “I joined D’zan because I wish to chronicle his life in as much detail as possible.”
“When he regains the throne and tosses the bones of this Elhathym into the sea,” said Andoses, “what a terrific ending your book will have.”
“What of you, Tyro?” asked the Queen. “Your brother seeks the preservation of knowledge through art. Why do you join D’zan?”
Tyro considered his words carefully. “Justice,” he said. “D’zan is the rightful heir to one of the world’s greatest kingdoms. Yaskatha is the jewel of the south. It pains me and my Lord Father to see a crime such as this. We seek justice not only for D’zan, but for his people. Surely they suffer under this black-handed tyrant.”
“A sorcerer,” said Vireon. He looked across the table at D’zan, who remained quiet. “Such an enemy is to be feared. Prince D’zan, I apologize. Yesterday I spoke out of grief and rage.”
D’zan grinned at Vireon. He raised his wine cup. “To new friends,” said the Yaskathan. The entire table drank to his toast. Alua nestled close to Vireon’s shoulder, her keen eyes smiling at D’zan.
“Shar Dni is the kingdom of my brother Ammon,” said the Queen. “The Raiders of Khyrei have all but crippled their trade. The island kingdoms of the East fear to enter their waters. Many of Ammon’s ships have been lost, and the Men of Shar Dni have perished in these sea battles… including Vidictus, another of my brothers. Khyrei is the enemy of Udurum because it is the enemy of Shar Dni.”
“So Andoses has explained to me,” said D’zan. “There is… too much death these days.”
A silly thing to say, thought Tyro. But D’zan speaks with a pure heart. The Queen likes him already.
Andoses responded to the use of his name. “There is no doubt that some covenant exists between the Empress of Khyrei and the Usurper of Yaskatha. Why else would Khyrein assassins travel all the way to Uurz and attempt to kill D’zan? This Elhathym obviously fears the return of the rightful Prince. He knows, as any tyrant should know, that the people will stand behind their true King, no matter his age. When D’zan returns, he will foster a rebellion to end this sorcerer’s rule.”
“Is this your intention, D’zan?” asked the Queen.
Answer well, young Prince, thought Tyro.
D’zan sat quiet for a moment. “I must do now what my father would do,” he said. “I follow a path laid for me by Olthacus the Stone. This sword I bear was his, and I will raise it as a banner to rally my countrymen. I will take back the throne that my father lost… or I will die in the trying. I can do no less.”
“Well said, Prince,” said the Queen. “You are your father’s son indeed.”
“He will need the backing of all our kingdoms,” said Tyro, seizing the moment. “A rebellion of peasants will achieve little. The power of Uurz, Shar Dni, and Udurum must be the first to rally beneath this banner. Yours is the final word, Majesty.”
“Before you answer, Shaira, consider this,” said Andoses. “Fostering revolt in the name of D’zan will divide the forces of Yaskatha and distract the tyrant. During a time of insurrection Khyrei will not be able to rely on Yaskathan aid. We will be three kingdoms united against one mutual enemy.”
“There remains the matter of Mumbaza,” said the Queen. “They are a mighty nation. If they ally with Khyrei’s Empress or the tyrant of Yaskatha, it will not go well for us.”
Andoses slammed his hand against the table. “Sister of my father!” he said. “We do not need the hordes of Mumbaza! We have the Uduru! Three armies of men and a fourth of giants! Who could stand against that?”
“A sorcerer,” answered Lyrilan, ever the voice of reason. “Or a sorceress. Do you forget that both Empress and Usurper wield the powers of darkness? You heard D’zan’s tale – what other horrors might this usurper call upon to cut down an army of living men? And Ianthe the Claw… her wizardry is legend itself. They say she feeds on the blood of the living and consorts with demons. There is more to power than marching feet and waving spears…”
Tyro noticed Fangodrim glancing at Vireon, who nodded.
“I have spoken with the Uduru since Vireon’s return,” said Fangodrim. “We have a duty that precedes all else. We will go north into the realm of the Ice King, there to join the Udvorg and make families. If we joined this war instead, there may be no more Uduru to preserve our line. The Queen has granted us permission to go… and so we will.”
Tyro was speechless. He turned to Andoses, who was just as surprised.
