Balint bowed low and said, Your majesty.
One thing, the king said, before dismissing her. Sir Croy may be an idiot but all the same if he says someones not to be trusted hes probably right. Serve me well and well forget about your indiscretions. Betray me and Ill send you back to the dwarven kingdom sealed up in a barrel like salt pork. Do you understand?
Balint nodded agreeably. Then she marched out of the room with her chin up. She couldnt resist giving an evil snicker as she walked past Croy.
Now, this oneyour name is Malden, is that right? And youre a thief?
My name is Malden, your majesty, Malden said, glancing over at Croy and Cythera. He pleaded silently with his eyes.
Yet what could Croy do? If he tried to free Malden now, hed be breaking his promise to the king. And that was unthinkable.
Sir Hew took you into custody this morning. Ordinarily he would have sent you to the magistrates, but he told me there was something special about your case, and of course, my time is valued so little around here that he insisted I judge you personally. Apparently you were in possession, at the time of your arrest, of one of the famous swords. The blasted Ancient Blades.
The one called Acidtongue, highness, Malden confirmed.
A rather valuable piece of iron. The king frowned. His eye took in Maldens cheap cloak, the lack of flesh on his bones. Look, lad, its clear that you stole the blade. Youre no more a swordsman than Im a fishwife. So Ill give you the same choice I plan on giving every criminal and vagrant in this city. You can go back to the gaol and wait until I have time to hang you properly. Orif you preferI can enlist you in my army as a foot soldier, and you can earn forgiveness through military service. Assuming you survive.
Begging your majestys pardon, I like neither of those options, Malden said.
No, I dont suppose you would. But thats what Im offering.
To a guilty man, yes. But I am innocent. I did not steal the sword. It was given to me freely by its rightful ownerSir Croy.
Every eye in the room turned to stare at the knight.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Is this true, Croy? the king demanded. Did youin factmake a gift of a priceless and irreplaceable, aye, a magical sword to what is clearly a piece of gutter trash from the most base dungpit in Ness?
Croy was still on his knees. It was not appropriate to drop prostrate before the king, but he considered it. It is true, he said.
The king frowned. I was under the impression that you already had an Ancient Blade. Yes, I see it there on your beltGhostcutter, I believe. Hmm. The last time I saw Acidtongue, it was in the possession of Sir Bikker. Wasnt it?
Sir Bikker is dead, Majesty, Croy said. He had to swallow thickly before he could go on. I slew him in a duel of honor. With his dying breath he gave Acidtongue to me, and bade me find another to wield it. That is the way of our order, that we each choose our successors. And I chose this manMaldenas the next to wield Acidtongue.
There werent any better candidates available? I have a nephew, for instance, who is absolutely useless at organizing his farms, but who loves nothing better than to whack away at the quintain all day with a wooden sword. He reminds me of you quite a bit, Croy. His heads just as full of fancies and notions of honor and chivalry. The king sighed. Absolutely bloody useless. You cant give Acidtongue to him?
Croy couldnt just say no. One did not gainsay the king. Yet he certainly could not say yes, either. He knew the nephew in question. Like every knight in the kingdom, he was distantly related to the king himself, and the nephew was his second cousin, once or twice removed. He couldnt remember which. The boy had always struck him as a simpleton. Then there was the fact that Croy had already given the sword to Malden. Once an Ancient Blade passed to its next wielder, it could not be taken back. The only way that could happen was if Croy decided Malden had broken his vows as an Ancient Blade. Then Croy would be required to kill Malden to secure the blade. The king might demand he do just that (and Croy would be required to comply), but even there was a problem. There had been no time for Croy to train Malden as an Ancient Bladeand thus Malden had never taken the sacred vows. He couldnt very well be said to have broken them since he had never even heard them spoken, much less repeated them.
There had to be a way to convince the king that Croy had made the right choice. Your majesty, Malden may be lowborn, but his heart is strong. He is a natural wonder at footwork and quickness. I believed that with a few years of proper training and a strict physical regimen, he could be made into a swordsman.
Maldens chains rattled. Croy looked over and saw the thief pointing at his own face. He mouthed the word, Me? as if he couldnt believe it. Yet surely, when Croy had given him the sword, Malden must have understood that this was to be his destiny. Surely
The king rose from his chair and strode briskly across the room. Going to the door, he waved one hand into the hallway. In a moment Sir Hew came in, carrying Acidtongue in its special glass-lined scabbard.
You heard something of this? the king asked.
Yes, your majesty. I heard all. And Ill swear all of it is true. Ive never known Croy to lie, not even to save his own skin. Much less that of a street rat like this Malden. The boy is a weakling, but hes quick on his feet as a tomcat. As for his heart, Croy would be the best judge.
The king pulled wearily at his beard. Fine, fine, give the boy his sword. Unchain him. Then the three of you go stand against that wall. If Im to be beset by three Ancient Blades at once, at least they can make themselves useful.
It was done quickly. When they were against the wall, Croy and Hew grasped forearms with great fondness. It had been a long time since theyd seen each other. You wear the kings crown on your chest, Croy said, looking down at Hews tabard. I am so glad to see you, old friendyet not a little surprised!
Hew shrugged. After we were disbanded I tried being a knight errant for a while, just like you. Running about the countryside slaying goblins and brigands, burning sorcerers at the stake, you know. All the usual thing. I found, however, that I couldnt take being my own master. So I came back here last year and begged for my old job back. His Majesty took pity on me and let me captain his watch. Now the worst thing I face most days is a starveling whos snatched a loaf of bread, but I have honor, true honor.
I am so glad to hear it, Croy said. A tear had formed in the corner of his eye.
Me too, Malden said. Croy hadnt even realized he was standing there.
Sir Hew turned to look at the thief with disdain. Youre not one of us yet, boy. Not just because you hold a sword. Dont forget that.
Malden laughed. Im just glad to not be hanged. But take a lesson from this, sir knight, and mark it wellnot every street rat is what he seems to be.
Hew bridled and looked as if he was about to say something sharp in return, but his imprecation was cut short when the king cleared his throat. Remembering their instructions the three men lined up against the wall, Malden trying to ape the posture of the two knights.
One last order of business, the king said, and then we can move on. Whos she?
One last order of business, the king said, and then we can move on. Whos she?
The king had turned and pointed at Cythera.
Your majesty, Cythera said, and made a proper curtsey. I am Cythera, daughter of Coruth. With Croy and Malden I brought Balint to you so that
The king waved on hand in dismissal. You should have stopped at daughter of Coruth. So youre a witch?
Not exactly.
The king gripped the bridge of his nose. Can you do anything witch-like?
Cythera blushed. Then she put her hands in front of her, a few inches apart. Bright sparks burst between them.
The king nodded eagerly. Good, goodkeep doing that! Its almost impressive. Now, you fouryour job in the next few minutes is to stand there, looking menacing. That is all. I dont want you to speak. I dont want you to move at all. Just look dangerous. Can you do that?
Certainly, Majesty, Croy said, but for what purpose?
I have a guest I need to entertain. It was the only explanation the king would give. He hurried to the door again and nodded to someone outside. Send her in, now. I havent got all day. Then he hurried back inside and took a seat in one of the rooms chairs.
A herald in bright green livery strode into the room and made an elaborate flourishing bow. Your majesty, he announced, I must present the lady Mörgain, princess of the eastern steppes!
The woman who came through the door wore very little other than a cloak of wolf fur. She stood taller than anyone in the room and broader through the shoulders than anyone but Croy or Hew. Her face was painted to look as if the flesh had been stripped from her skull, and her hair was hacked short and stuck out in wild bunches. If she was the daughter of Mörg the Wise then that made her the brother of Mörget, whom Croy had once called brother. Mörget was dead now, a fact that made him secretly breathe easierhe had no desire to test his prowess in a fight against Mörget. But by the look of her Mörgain would be nearly as deadly.
In her hand she held an iron axe, and she brought it round in a powerful swing that struck the herald in the small of the back. The small man went flying and crashed against the side of the hearth.
No man calls me princess, Mörgain said.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Instantly Ghostcutter came to Croys hand. Beside him he saw Chillbrand appear in Sir Hews grip. Croy glanced over at Malden and nodded at the thiefs belt. Malden made a rather clumsy draw of it, but he got Acidtongue into the air.
Cythera drew her hands apart, and light jumped between her fingers.
Yet even before Croy could take a step toward the barbarian, Mörgain had drawn her own sword and dropped into a defensive crouch. The sight of the blade was enough to make even a disciplined knight take pause.
Croy had seen longer swords, but never any so massive. It was longer than Ghostcutter by a good six inches and the blade was broader than his palm. The sword had no quillions, nor needed any, for the blade was far wider than the grip, and only tapered near its point. It looked not so much like a sword as a grotesquely large kitchen knife. The iron had a perfect fibrous grain that spoke of master craftsmanship, but no matter how well balanced it might be Croy knew most men would never have been able to hold its weight in both hands.
Mörgain held it in one of her own, and the muscles in her bare arm showed little strain.
Sir Hew spoke the name that echoed inside Croys own skull.
Thats Fangbreaker.
Fangbreakerone of the seven Ancient Blades. Made eight hundred years ago, at the same time as Ghostcutter, or Chillbrand, or Acidtongue, and sworn as they were to slay demons and defend humanity. Fangbreaker and another Ancient Blade called Dawnbringer had been lost to the people of Skrae centuries before in the final terrible battle theyd fought against the barbariansthe battle that had pushed the horde back beyond the Whitewall. The knights who wielded the blades perished in the fighting up in the mountains, and their swords were lost to Skrae. It had long been conjectured that they had ended up in the hands of the barbarians. Croy had confirmed the truth of thathe had seen Dawnbringer in the hand of Mörget, and now Mörgain held Fangbreaker. He wondered if Mörgain was as untrustworthyand as unworthy of carrying an Ancient Bladeas her brother.
Maybe it was time to take the sword back for Skrae. He lunged forward, bringing Ghostcutter up from a low quarter. Mörgain moved faster than Croy expected and swept down with Fangbreaker so the two swords rang and grated along each others edge. Croy sensed Sir Hew coming up from behind him on his left, his weak side. Together they could make short work of this defiler
Except that just then the king called, Hold! Hold, all of you.
Croy leapt back and shot a quick glance toward his liege. Ulfram V was crouching by the hearth, one hand pressed against the neck of the fallen herald.
This mans not dead. Just stunned. I will not have blood shed in my privy chamber. Not in this room, where my father died. And you, Maldenput that blasted thing away. Youre spilling acid on my good parquet floor.
Croy kept his eyes on Mörgain. Her painted face showed nothing, though her eyes were on fire with bloodlust. If he or Hew wanted to continue the conversation, she would be happy to oblige, he was certain.
Stop. Put away your weapons. All of you! Ulfram demanded again.
Croy met Mörgains eyes, then slowly nodded. She nodded in return. They both sheathed their swords at the same time. Croy knew he could count on Sir Hew to do the same.
As long as you do not use that filthy word again, Mörgain announced, I will remain at peace. I am no princess. Princesses are vain, idle things, good only for sitting in towers waiting to be married off to the richest man their fathers can find. I am a chieftess of the eastern clans. Thousands of men obey my command.
The king stood up to his full height. The king might be overly familiar with his inferiors and he might fail to understand the value of the Ancient Blades, but Croy knew that Ulfram V did not lack for courage. Youre in my land, now. I dont see these thousands of men in this room. Youve already given me offense. Did you come all this way to insult me? Its a long voyage from the eastern steppes.
Not anymore, Mörgain said, and smiled to show her teeth. Matched with the painted teeth on her lips, they looked like vicious fangs. I rode here, driving my horse to the point of death by exhaustion. It took me two days. My clansmen are coming on foot. It will take them a little longer. But only a little.
So its true, what my scouts have told me, Ulfram said, his voice hollow. When Cloudblade fell, it cleared a new pass through the mountains.
One near as flat as the plains of my birth, Mörgain agreed.
And youll cross that pass to invade Skrae. For conquest.
As is our right. We are stronger than you. Weve always been stronger than you, Mörgain said, and the strong should rule the weak. For centuries now youve hidden behind those mountains, just as you hide behind the walls of your cities. It seems even mountains can fall. Where will you hide now, little king?
Ulfram bristled but he was enough of a statesman not to rise to an obvious taunt. Mörgain might be bigger than him but he didnt have to fight her himself. This is an act of aggression. A bald-faced move of conquest.