As they drew up in front of him, Vale bowed low, exactly as he would bow for any other king or queen. 'Your Holiness. The speaker welcomes you and bids you and yours to enter, under the ancient laws of hospitality They swept past him without a glance. Vale stayed exactly where he was until all the riders had gone. Then, with a gesture, he ordered the gates closed. As Valmeyan and his riders marched into the Chamber of Audience, he signalled his legions to return to the walls and their duties. Back where they should have been in the first place.
Most of them. A few he beckoned towards him. A dozen, that would be enough. They followed Valmeyan and quietly entered the chamber. The air inside smelled new, rich with fresh wood and paint. At the far end, Speaker Zafir sat with her kings. Valmeyan was standing before them. Further away stood riders from all the kings and queens assembled here, bearing witness to the words of the council, a company of them from every realm, even a few from the north. Jeiros and Aruch too, alchemists and priests clustered around them. Vale strode briskly among them, all the way to the speaker's table. All the way to the seat where Prince Jehal lounged insolently, sneering as the speaker and the King of the Crags exchanged their first ritual greeting in thirty years. Vale stood behind him. He gave himself a moment to savour what he was about to do.
'Prince Jehal.'
Jehal looked up. He didn't look troubled so he obviously had no idea what was coming. 'Night Watchman.'
There weren't many moments of pure joy in the brief life of a Night Watchman. That was something Vale had come to understand a long time ago, and so he took his time with this one. 'Prince Jehal,' he said again, lingering on every word, 'you are charged with conspiring to aid and abet the enemies of the realms. By order of the speaker, you are stripped of all titles and authorities.'
'What?' Jehal half rose out of his chair. Vale put a heavy hand on his shoulder, forcing him back down again. You can't begin to imagine how satisfying this is.
'You will be taken to the Tower of Dusk. There you will stay for the remainder of your days, awaiting the speaker's sentence.' At a gesture, four of Vale's soldiers seized Jehal and dragged him out of his chair.
'Zafir!' he shouted, but the speaker's face was cold. She didn't even glance at him. 'Night Watchman, unhand me! I am quite capable of walking. I am hardly likely to escape.'
Vale didn't look at him. He lowered his voice so that only Jehal would hear. 'True enough. And I will admit to being impressed that you didn't even flinch in front of Prince Tichane's monster. But still, all things considered, I think I prefer to have you dragged, Your Highness.'
The Gateyard outside was clear. His legions were already back on the walls and the towers. Vale took a moment to look around him.
A good day's work and we're hardly even started. He already had a heavy sword sharpened up for Queen Shezira's head. It could easily take another. One could always hope.
21
They opened the door, threw him inside and shut it behind him. Jehal sat up and rubbed his bruises. A pair of servants stared at him, wide-eyed like startled rabbits, then scurried away. As the door slammed closed, twilight enveloped him. The air was hazy with smoke despite the height of the room. Shafts of sunlight pierced the walls and lit patches of fire on the floor; everywhere else danced in flickering shadow.
'Hello Prince Jehal. Please don't get up. I'll shoot you if you do.'
Jehal froze. The voice came from off to one side. Shezira. He turned his head, and there she was, sitting half hidden by one of the massive columns that vanished into the vaulted gloom above. She was holding a crossbow, a large one, calmly, steadily pointing it at him.
His heart began to pound. How much does she know?
'The trouble with the condemned,' he said, slowly and softly, 'is that they have very little to lose. You appear to have been expecting me, Your Holiness.'
'Did you think I was entirely powerless in here? The Night Watchman let slip that you would be joining me this morning. He also let slip a crossbow and a single bolt. Very careless of him, don't you think?'
'Very.' An acidic smile settled on Jehal's face. 'I appear to have been well and truly… expected.'
'He must hate you very much, Jehal. I know he hates me. He thinks I killed Hyram. I don't imagine he much cares which one of us dies. He probably hopes for both of us.'
'Did he tell you that I was conspiring with him to help you escape?' Jehal frowned. 'Trying to conspire with him, at any rate. I wonder how long he pondered my proposal before he ran to Zafir.'
'I've heard that you conspired a good deal. I'm left to wonder how much of it is true.'
'Quite a lot of it, I don't doubt.' Jehal shrugged. 'I do so enjoy a good conspiring.'
'As I would enjoy hearing about them.'
Jehal snorted. 'What, so we can pass the time with some civilised conversation and then you kill me? Why not do us both a favour and get it over with quickly.'
'Killing you is clearly what I'm supposed to do, but I am not inclined to be cooperative. If at all possible, I mean to shoot you somewhere painful and leave you to live as a cripple. That would be much more satisfying.'
'Pity you wouldn't be here to watch though, eh. But kill me now and three of the nine realms will be controlled by your daughters, all baying for war and revenge. I doubt Zafir would survive for long. I'm surprised you didn't get straight on and do it.'
'I'm not much interested in a war, Jehal.'
Jehal couldn't help but laugh. 'That's what I keep telling them. Although…' He shrugged and sighed. 'Not being interested in a war doesn't seem to have done me much good.' Keep talking. Talking was good. Talking wasn't shooting.
Shezira almost smiled at him, although the crossbow didn't flinch. 'I was under the impression that you being here to have this conversation had rather more to do with Princess Lystra. It is a little difficult to decide whether she'll live longer with you dead or with you alive. You understand, I hope, that she is my only consideration in how I deal with you.'
'Ah.' Jehal let that sink in along with all the implications that came with it. 'Yes. Unfortunate thing that. I suppose you realise that Zafir had a certain amount of help getting to where she is. I didn't need to help her seduce Hyram, but I certainly let her steal the potions she gave him. I allied myself with you and made sure Hyram knew about it. Hyram would have had an accident around now. Lystra would have followed a year later. I would have married Zafir and in time I would have succeeded her. That was what we planned, as I'm sure you've already grasped. But Zafir got impatient and I found something in Lystra that I didn't expect, and so here I find myself. That is the extent of my conspiracy, Your Holiness. You can get on with shooting me now if you wish. I should warn you though that you may miss. If you do, why then I think we shall have some fun.' He shifted onto his knees, trying to get more comfortable, at the same time readying himself to spring to his feet. Shezira gave a slight shake of her head.
'You stay sitting exactly where you are. Keep your legs flat on the floor.'
Jehal rolled his eyes. 'If you prefer, Your Holiness, I will lie on my belly. Or on my back, with my feet in the air.'
'As you are will be perfectly adequate.' Shezira rose out of her chair and came slowly towards him, but kept a wary distance, circling around him. 'I didn't push Hyram off his balcony, you know.'
'Yes, I know. I saw.'
'Really?'
'He fell. I've been trying quite hard to convince others of your innocence.'
'Have you now?' Her voice was cold. She didn't believe him, probably didn't believe him about Lystra either. She was prowling around him now. Her hands on the crossbow were as steady as stone, and her eyes… Her eyes showed no forgiveness, no mercy. In the north they called her the Queen of Stone, the Queen of Flint. Jehal had called her that too, behind her back, but now he understood what they really meant. His heart skipped. He bit his lip.
