'Were you poisoning him, Jehal?' she asked. Jehal hesitated. If he lied, and she already knew… but he'd undone himself anyway by not answering straight away.
'Yes,' he said.
'And your father?'
This time he was ready. His face twisted into a sneer. 'Everyone seems to think so. Why should I disappoint you all?'
The look she gave him was a queer one, as if he'd somehow answered another question, one that she hadn't asked but one that mattered a great deal more. 'And me, Jehal? Why were you trying to poison me?'
He snorted, surprised. 'You? Why would I poison you? You were no threat to me.' 'I am now.'
'Sadly, my powers of foresight did not predict this little awkwardness. Zafir having me thrown in a dungeon while she had you put to death, yes, I suppose I half expected that. It being this dungeon and my good friend the Night Watchman having left you so wickedly dangerous, that possibility I'm afraid had entirely escaped me.'
'Again, Jehal, why were you trying to poison me? I cannot fathom what you would gain from it, yet I cannot see who else it could be.'
Jehal furrowed his brow and shook his head. What are you talking about, woman? 'Your Holiness, I never have tried to poison you. In actual fact, despite all Hyram's little fantasies, I've murdered remarkably few people. Your daughter, for example. Notably not murdered, however politically useful it might have been. You. Also not murdered. And I can promise you, Queen Shezira, that when I aim to make someone dead, they die. I helped Zafir steal the Speaker's Ring from you, but poison you? No. I would have been quite happy for you to go back to Outwatch and fester. I've never tried to have you harmed in any way; in fact, since Hyram stupidly fell off his own balcony, I've done everything I can to keep you alive. Not out of any love for you, you understand, but, believe it or not, for love of the realms. Of everything. Of life. Zafir doesn't just want your head. She's going to execute King Valgar as well, and then she's going to move on to all three of your daughters. I'm trying to stop her.' He looked ruefully around the Tower of Dusk. 'Not with as much success as I'd hoped, it would seem.'
Shezira snorted and shook her head. 'Why should I believe a word you say? Hyram called you a viper, and he wasn't wrong. We all should have listened to him.'
'Your daughter Jaslyn sits on your throne. Almiri rules in Evenspire. With Zafir they will take all the realms into flames. You don't need me to tell you that.'
'Jaslyn has Hyrkallan to guide her.' For a moment, Jehal wondered how the queen could possibly know that Hyrkallan had abandoned the Red Riders and returned north. Then he realised that she probably didn't know that the Red Riders even existed. 'Resides, she cares more (or her dragons that she does for me.' A touch of bitterness tinged Shezira's voice now. 'She won't go to war, not for me. The only person she truly cares about is her little sister, your Lystra. Keep her alive and safe and Jaslyn will stay in her eyries.'
'Lystra is carrying my heir.'
'So I've heard. Another reason to keep her alive.' 'I'm trying very hard to do so.'
Shezira nodded her head. 'Good. Unfortunately, I rather fear for my daughter after she's given you what you want. So let me give you something that is both help and encouragement.' And with that, Shezira pointed the crossbow between Jehal's legs and fired.
The force knocked him back across the polished marble floor; and then came the pain, unbearable, burning, blinding, shrieking pain that seemed to run like liquid fire along every nerve and bone.
'Zafir will have to find another lover now,' said Shezira, although Jehal could hardly hear her over the roaring in his head. He couldn't see anything either. 'We are truly tied together now, blood to blood, Prince Jehal. If my bloodline dies, so does yours.'
The roaring sounds, Jehal realised, were his own screams.
22
Vale stood, still as a statue, as the Herald of Titles announced each and every sitting member of the council of kings and queens. Only the monarchs had any real say in what would be decided, but they'd brought a good few lords and ladies and a smattering of princes and princesses with them. Vale wondered if it made them feel more important. The other possibility was that it made them feel safe, a thought which he took as a personal affront.
He, of course, was not sitting and was not announced. His soldiers stood quietly, scattered around the Chamber of Audience, some more obvious than others, deceptive in their numbers. A casual glance might say he'd brought only a dozen men to guard the speaker and her guests. The truth was closer to ten times that number. Some of them were also witnesses. Witnesses who would say that they'd seen Queen Shezira enter the speaker's rooms, invited in by the speaker's wordmaster. That they'd heard the speaker call out, shouting for something that they hadn't been able to understand. That they'd gone into his rooms and found Queen Shezira standing on his balcony with the speaker already lying dead below.
But none of them actually saw the push. None of them saw him fall. He hadn't given it too much thought until the kings from the south and the east had started to arrive. Then they'd all started asking. Did you see it? Did anyone actually see Shezira murder Speaker Hyram. Narghon's queen, Fyon, she was the worst. By the time she was finished, even the wordmaster, who'd been adamant that Shezira was guilty, was having his doubts.
I am the Night Watchman of the dragon-soldiers. We do not have doubt. The Guard are always certain of their cause. From birth to death. Nothing more, nothing less. Hyram fell. Shezira pushed. End. I'here is no other explanation that makes sense.
Eventually they finished and Speaker Zafir summoned him to the Table of Judges to speak what he knew. He did exactly as he was asked. He had gone to the Tower of Dusk to confine Queen Shezira and her men. The queen was not present in the tower. He had sent other men to stand watch over Speaker Hyram. When he heard of Speaker Hyram's death, he had ordered the Tower of Dusk to be stormed. Yes, he'd lost a good few men. Yes, the defenders had thrown back his first assault, and were only turned to flight by the arrival of the remainder of the legion. Yes, he had been impatient and possibly foolish, and yes, several of Shezira's riders had escaped. Including, as it had happened, Queen Almiri.
As soon as they had no more use for him, he bowed and walked away. Others would follow. His men. Good men. If there were any omissions or any falsehoods in what Vale had said, none of them knew it. They would tell the truth because they had no reason to do otherwise, but they would just as easily lie if he told them to. Orders. The Guard obeys orders. From birth to death. Nothing more, nothing less. Why do they always forget that?
For most of the morning the questions went on. The speaker grew visibly impatient. King Sirion sat and twisted his fingers in his beard. The King of the Crags looked as if he'd fallen asleep. Only the two eastern kings, Narghon and Silvallan seemed to care about what anyone had to say. They all made up their minds before they came here. All of them except Hyram's cousin.
He'd made up his own mind too. Made it up long ago. As he listened, he wondered whether he should consider again, question his belief and be sure. But that sort of thinking wasn't going to get him anywhere. No one had ever asked him for an opinion and he'd never offered one. The kings and queens of the realms would make their judgement and he would execute it. That was all.
So why are my knuckles clenched white? Why is the inside of my head burning?
'Enough!' Zafir stood up and slammed the point of the Adamantine Spear into the marble floor. The blade drove at least three inches into the stone. Vale wasn't sure that Zafir even noticed. She glared out from the Table of Judges at all the standing members of the council. 'The kings and queens of the dragon-realms will pass their judgement. I say Queen Shezira murdered Speaker Hyram. We have a hundred witnesses to say they were alone and that no one else could have been with them. My husband was old. He was sick and drunk and hardly able to defend himself, but not so sick and drunk that he'd simply fall off a balcony. Shezira was desperate and had every reason to want revenge. Further, I say that King Valgar and Knight-Marshal Lady Nastria were her pawns. I say that their efforts to murder me were at her command.' She turned her glare onto the sitting council. 'What say you? King Sirion, your judgement, please.'
