Markan Throne Read online

  "We whistle, donenya," replied Belaika. "Humans cannot hear us."

  "Yes." A small smile turned the Marshal's lips. "Of course." His voice dropped to a murmur. "A net of sylphs whistling can quickly cover a large area and pass on any intelligence. Impressive."

  Hearing every word, Belaika said nothing.

  "Care to teach me these whistles?" asked Mikhan.

  "Difficult." Belaika managed a small smile. "You cannot hear them."

  Unimpressed, Mikhan sniffed. "That is an evasion."

  Refusing to be drawn, Belaika shrugged.

  Branad changed the subject. "I'm glad everybody is here. Tonight, Cousin Marcus will dine with me. Verdin, shall we walk? There is something I must tell you."

  Outside, away from the possible hearing range even of sylphs, Branad and Verdin watched as the carriages were prepared for the night. Eventually, Branad spoke.

  "I'm afraid we're still waiting for rooms in the city, so you will have to stay in that caravan a little longer."

  Verdin blinked; not quite the conversation he expected. "A few days more can do no harm," he replied. "We cannot all cram into your campaign tent."

  "And no room for me in the caravan." Branad smiled. "But not for long."

  There was a longer pause before Branad took a long breath.

  Verdin tensed.

  "You are aware that Marcus defeated me?"

  Verdin's heart began to pound. "Yes."

  "Not just a battle where his forces defeated mine, but a battle which saw me captured." Bitterness thickened the older man's voice. "If not for his mercy, he could execute me for treason. Victor's spoils, if you like. As could I, were the positions reversed."

  Verdin said nothing.

  "For days I have faced a difficult choice. The only honorable decision is the one I must make."

  "Which is?"

  Branad's eyes glistened and again he seemed on the brink of tears. "Our people in Sandester will be disappointed, our soldiers will be disappointed, and our supporters in the Supreme Council and Senate will be disappointed." He sighed and dropped into formal language. "Tonight, I will inform Marcus Marcus Vintner that Branad Ulvic Vintner renounces his claim and that of his descendants to the vacant Throne of Marka. That renunciation will be repeated in the Senate tomorrow morning. Furthermore, I will announce that our support is transferred to Marcus Vintner in the pursuit of his claim. I will join our Prefectures to his and our armies will merge." His chest heaved with suppressed emotion. "I apologize for squandering your birthright."

  Verdin turned to his father. "I have no birthright for you to squander," he said, quickly. "We are only claimants to a Throne that has only just been recognized in Marka. I respect your decision. And agree with it."

  Branad looked as though a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

  Verdin looked away again. Now was not the time to share his relief at his father's decision. "How do you think Cousin Marcus will fare?"

  "Marcus Vintner will make an excellent Emperor." Branad shook his head. "A superb Emperor."

  "And he will have work for both of us when he gets his throne." Verdin smiled. "What will Uncle Nazvasta think?"

  "I must write him a letter." Branad grimaced. "It's not what he might think. It's what he might do that should worry us!"

  The two generations of Vintners laughed together.

  ***

  Belaika was surprised Branad's tent held the large round table borrowed from Marcus. Ten places were laid out, the sylph helping the three serving girls place cutlery. The burner had been pushed to one side and its chimney trunked to the usual exit at the tent's peak.

  Branad's sleeping quarters had been merged with the main tent, the man's bedding removed for the meal. And an extension had been put at the back of the tent, where cooks already prepared the food.

  Belaika had run errands all afternoon, fetching this and carrying that. He was kept so busy that he barely had time to wash and change into formal clothes. He now wore a spotless white shirt and gray knee-length breeches, the usual uniform of off-duty scouts.

  He had no other clothes except scouting breeches, which would most definitely not be welcome this evening. He kept on his scouting collar, but left the sash with its decorations in his small clothes chest. It would get in the way when serving, and – worse – some might think he was showing off.

  After helping one of the girls roll back a tent wall that had fallen against one side of the table, he retreated to the back of the tent, ready with the wine. A menial task nobody else wanted, but the sylph knew it would let him keep a discreet eye on everything happening at the table. And gave him a reason to watch everyone.

  Branad entered with both wives, son Verdin and two of his older daughters. The sylph assumed the other girls were too young to enjoy a formal dinner. Verdin gave the sylph a strange look before recognition finally dawned.

  "So you really are a sylph," said the young Vintner, grinning. "Normal blue skin after all."

  "Part of my new disguise, donenya," replied the scout.

  His owner and Kelanus arrived together, followed directly by Mikhan and Ranallic. Belaika watched as formal introductions were made to Branad's senior wife, Kana Santon.

  The sylph had expected her to be no more than coolly polite to Marcus, but she all but ignored Kelanus. Belaika wondered if she knew that a sneer of distaste turned her mouth.

  That she treated Ranallic with the same disdain surprised him. It wasn't a dislike of soldiers, for her greeting to Mikhan was warm and affectionate. Perhaps she didn't like outlanders.

  Belaika stared in surprise when he realized Jenn had failed to wrangle her way to the meal tonight. She always resented separation from Marcus and he guessed she would be sulking in Marcus's tent right now.

  As he went around the table, offering a fruit wine Branad had bought somewhere in Marka, tensions between the guests were clear.

  Kelanus seemed friendly enough toward Verdin and Mikhan, wary of Branad's wives and daughters, a little distant toward Branad and quietly hostile toward Ranallic.

  Something was going on there and he had heard only hints. For whatever reason, Kelanus blamed Ranallic for losing Branad's command.

  Belaika had never before seen the emotion so obvious in a human, but he knew Kelanus hated Ranallic. Perhaps only the surroundings prevented him from attacking the southlander.

  "You going to stand there all night boy, or are you waiting for me to die of thirst?"

  The sylph jumped. That was aimed at him, he realized. Branad's other wife – Elsin, he thought it was – beckoned to him. Although the words sounded angry, she smiled as she said them.

  "Apologies, donanya." Belaika noticed that Ranallic's gaze fixed on either Elsin or himself as he refilled her goblet.

  Verdin caught the sylph's sleeve as he passed.

  "More wine?"

  "Thank you, no. Why are you so happy to serve my father? I understand you weren't always so pleased about it. Yet you asked to continue."

  "I did, donenya."

  "Why?"

  Belaika bobbed his head. "It saves me from other duties I do not like." As he straightened, he became aware of Ranallic's gaze again. The sylph's eyes narrowed. Was he being stared at? Or had Ranallic realized that he was spying for Marcus?

  Aware Belaika would say no more, Verdin turned to Kelanus. The sylph stood back and eavesdropped.

  "Did you have a pleasant journey?" Kelanus's bass rumble was muted. Even Belaika strained to overhear.

  Verdin nodded. "Though my sisters were worried for my father's safety when we passed the battlefield."

  "On Candin Plain." Kelanus nodded. "We intended to capture your father from the outset. Marcus has a use for him."

  Belaika detected a hint of bitterness in the General's tone. He leaned forward as Verdin touched Kelanus's sleeve.

  "Please don't hate my father," he begged. "He always held you in high regard and felt he had little choice after what you were accused of."
r />   Belaika's ears strained.

  Kelanus's eyes narrowed as he glanced across the table at Ranallic. "It's not your father I hate."

  Belaika moved around the table with the wine and became aware of Ranallic's gaze on him yet again. What was the man's problem?

  Conversation ceased while the main – and last – course was served.

  Belaika watched the humans as they cut their meat. Most moved the food around the plate for ease, while others turned the plate. He noted the one exception was Ranallic, who swapped his knife from one hand to the other.

  The sylph was not the only one to notice.

  "Can you do that with other tools?" Marcus asked the southerner.

  Ranallic smiled. "Most of them," he replied. "Certainly with swords and other weapons."

  "A useful skill," said Marcus.

  Ranallic smiled. "Very."

  The silence lasted longer this time, so Belaika happily helped the human girls clear away the dishes.

  Once they served alovak, the girls left Belaika alone. As with the wine, the alovak was part of his duty. He crouched on his heels at a polite distance, where anyone who wanted more could catch his attention. The brewing can remained at his side. He waited patiently. Everybody would soon learn why Branad had called them together this evening. He glanced at Verdin, certain the young man already knew that reason.

  Branad Vintner pulled himself to his feet and banged the side of his cup with a knife. As all conversation quietened, he smiled around at everyone present.

  "I hope," he began, "that we all enjoyed the feast."

  A murmur of assent met his words, although Marcus and Kelanus exchanged a look. Belaika sat on his heels behind Branad's wives and daughters, thankful he could not see Ranallic from here. Why did the man keep staring at him? He placed himself to see Branad, his owner, Kelanus and Verdin.

  Branad continued. "I wish to tell you first what I will tell the Senate tomorrow morning. As you are all aware, little more than a week has passed since Cousin Marcus and myself met at Candin Plain. Again, as you all know, Cousin Marcus not only carried the day to complete victory, but also succeeded in capturing me. For which, I offer my sincere congratulation." He bowed his head toward Marcus, who returned the gesture. His expression, however, remained neutral.

  Branad took a breath. "Since reaching Marka, we have discovered that the Supreme Council and Senate of Marka are split into factions concerning who should take the Throne. In my view, this takes all legitimate claims and makes a mockery of them. The scale of legitimacy is worthless, as we have seen in the machinations of the Senate over the past few days. That some are prepared to support men such as Hingast renders both Cousin Marcus and myself speechless."

  Marcus and Kelanus exchanged another look. Branad continued.

  "It is my view that decency should reign in Marka and that a decent man should take the Throne to reunite the Empire against men like Hingast. Both the armies here should unite under one command structure as a first step to resist any move to install Hingast, or some other unsuitable claimant, on the Throne. I also believe that three of the factions in the Senate can and should be united. The three factions I mention are those who support myself, Marcus Vintner and Marcus Vintner Senior. The method of uniting the last two factions is down to you, Sir." Branad and Marcus again exchanged nods.

  Belaika could not prevent a puzzled frown wrinkling his brow. What was going on here? His earpoints twitched erect and slanted forward in turn.

  Branad's mouth twisted in a vague smile. "I have always fought in the belief that my claim to the Markan Throne was the strongest of all those who demanded it and even now, I restate this remains my belief. However, I am defeated in battle and there are many who say that Siranva has spoken, that He intervened in this dispute."

  Aware that history was being made before his startled eyes, Belaika stood upright. Shock painted Ranallic's face as he stared at his commander. He must realize what was coming. Marcus had his hands clasped on the table before him, the way he did when trying to suppress sudden elation.

  Branad's voice firmed. "This is why I recommend all my supporters transfer their allegiance to Marcus Marcus Vintner. This is why I renounce – for both myself and my descendants – all claim to the Throne of Marka. I renounce my claim in favor of Marcus Vintner and his descendants in perpetuity." Branad turned to face Marcus, dropped to one knee, and bowed. "Your Majesty."

  Everybody in the tent followed suit. Belaika forgot to kneel – his master had never demanded it from him at other times – so only he saw Verdin's pleased smile. Why would Verdin be pleased?

  The sylph's gaze slid to Ranallic, who looked anything but pleased.

  "Rise, everybody please rise." Marcus Vintner could not hide his pleasure as he insisted everyone regain their feet. He cleared his throat and began to give his thanks to Branad. He had always been able to make a speech off the top of his head and he used the skill now. Belaika recovered his composure first and let the words wash over him as he wandered around the table, offering alovak.

  Branad's wives were astounded. The younger girls looked unconcerned; perhaps because they were not in line for the Throne, so were not directly affected by their father's announcement.

  Marshal Mikhan shook his head in disbelief.

  Now the shock had worn off, Ranallic and Kelanus exchanged mutual glances of hatred.

  "So," said Marcus, wrapping up his short speech, "let us now work together to rebuild the birthright of us all: a united and strong Marka."

  Polite applause met his words.

  ***

  Chapter 6

  Murder

  Belaika did not want to wake from his dream. Eleka had birthed a son. A complete family brought its own happiness. Eleka nodded assent to something and he strained to fall deeper into his dream.

  Part of him remained alert, aware of something... nasty... happening outside the tent. A gurgling exhalation followed by a grunt and soft thud.

  He held his beautiful baby son, the infant's eyes still shut and his earpoints tucked away, normal for sylph newborns. He smiled again at his wife and told her how much he loved her. He smiled at his daughters, crowding around for their turn with the new arrival.

  Grass cooled his feet and a river flowed placidly past, its waters calm and clear. Nearby trees offered shade for when the sun strengthened.

  Shivering as a draft passed over him, he snuggled deeper into his blanket. A whispered voice soothed, but he sensed something wrong. Kelanus in Branad's tent? He screwed his eyes more tightly shut, trying to stay in his dream, but his inner voice warned of danger.

  "I must go," he told Eleka.

  "Go where?" Puzzlement and hurt flickered in her eyes. "Enya says you have no duties for seven days."

  "No idea." Belaika's earpoints slanting ahead in confusion. What tent? He and his family were at the riverside! "But I must go."

  The sylph resisted a frustrated shout as he fell from his dream to the real world. Normality returned and he sensed something terribly, terribly wrong. He rubbed his arms and wondered what bothered him. He blinked in the near darkness and drew breath sharply.

  "Kelanus-ya, what are you doing here?" He had obviously not dreamed that. He saw Kelanus's smile.

  "Shush. Go back to sleep. Sounded like you were enjoying the place you left rather more than here."

  "Yes," came the sylph's candid reply.

  Belaika blinked again as Kelanus turned and picked his way towards the exit, without needing a light, as if he knew where everything was. He shook his head and wondered what caused his niggling fear. He rubbed his arms again.

  Something about Kelanus looked wrong, and not knowing what bothered him. A feeling of something not quite right. And how did the General know his way around Branad's tent in darkness? As far as Belaika could tell, Kelanus had only been in this tent once before, and they had rearranged everything since then.

  At the flap, Kelanus turned to face the sylph and moonlight played over his face.
"Go back to sleep." He left the tent.

  Wide-awake and wide-eyed, Belaika knew he had no chance of sleep now. Straining his ears, he heard nothing. He usually woke a few times during the night and often heard the guard outside stamp a foot or ease a joint, which caused leather armor to creak. And he always heard Branad's strong, even breathing. Always.

  Now, nothing. Everything felt wrong.

  He pushed his blanket aside and stood, heart pounding. He uncovered a light crystal and its harsh light spilled free to throw shadows on the tent walls. Afraid to disturb the man he served, yet needing to see him, Belaika pushed through the tapestries that screened off Branad's sleeping quarters. He paused.

  "Branad-ya?"

  Silence. Not even breathing.

  Belaika glanced over his shoulder and nervousness grew. Should he call the guard? He looked at the shape under the blankets.

  "Branad-ya?" he repeated.

  Insides knotted, he steeled himself and held the lantern high. His eyes widened.

  "Guard!" he called, the word coming out as a squeak. He cleared his throat and strengthened his voice, unused to calling. "Guard!"

  Belaika stepped into the sleeping compartment.

  He looked directly at Branad now, and terror mingled with sympathy. The former claimant lay on his bed with a pillow covering his face. Any struggle must have been short and almost silent, for it had not woken the sylph. He leaned forward and yelled for the guard, aware Branad would never again hear him. He gently touched the silent human on the bed. Warm but not breathing.

  He pulled the pillow free and saw filmed-over eyes. Fingers felt for and failed to find a pulse in Branad's neck.

  "Touch nothing!"

  Belaika almost launched skyward, but recovered his composure enough to face Ranallic. Almost anybody in range would have heard his yells.

  Ranallic carried a lantern of his own and strode toward the sylph, slanted eyes glittering in the reflected light.

  "He... He is dead."

  Ranallic craned his neck to peer at Branad. "What have you done, boy? The guard outside's had his throat cut."

  "Nothing!" protested Belaika. "Something woke me. Someone leaving the tent, so I came to see." He gestured helplessly at the corpse. "I only took the pillow away from his face, in case he was still breathing, but there is no heartbeat."

  He looked around as Verdin entered the tent. His yells must have woken everybody and the wagon Branad's family slept in was parked alongside.