of Tencendor he created Belial as Prince of the West. Few were loath to speak out against that. Belial was a loved man, and remains a loved memory. But his elevation essentially replaced the office of King of Achar. Axis destroyed the throne of Achar after he defeated his brother, Borneheld. Zared, you are the only legitimate heir to the throne of Achar.”
Herme leaned back in his chair. True, true and true, good Goldman, he thought. I could not have put it better myself. Speak on, man.
Goldman did indeed hurry on. “Sir Prince, you may have been disinherited of a crown, but more importantly, the Acharites have been disinherited of their throne and their nationhood.”
Zared spoke again, his voice now noticeably tight. “Continue.”
“Have not the Icarii, the Avar and the Ravensbund their leaders, their titular heads? Yet the Acharites have lost their monarchy and, in so losing, their pride. Sir Prince, why is it that the Icarii, Avar and Ravensbund retained or gained kings when the Acharites lost theirs?”
“Perhaps,” Herme put in carefully, for this was something Zared could not say without proving disloyal to at least one of his brothers, “it is because Borneheld, as King of Achar, was far too closely allied with the Seneschal and pursued a policy of hatred and war towards the Avar and Icarii. Axis rightly wanted to ensure that would never happen again.”
Goldman looked directly at Zared. “Sir Prince, I am not asking you to resurrect the beliefs of the Seneschal, only your people’s pride and nationhood. Prince Zared,” his voice slowed and he stressed every word, “your people want you back. They want their King. With few exceptions, western Tencendor would rise up to back your claim.”
Goldman glanced at Herme and Theod, hoping he had not read them incorrectly. “True, Sir Duke? Sir Earl?”
“We would not speak against it,” Theod said slowly.
Herme hesitated, then said curtly, “No king of Achar ever treated us as vilely as Askam does.”
“You all mouth treason!” Zared said, and pushed his chair back as if he intended to stand. “I do not intend to –”
“Treason?” Heavorand repeated. “Is it treason to speak of that which is our wish and your inheritance?”
Zared had stilled, his face expressionless.
“They are right, Zared,” Theod added. “Right! Achar needs its King back! Look how Askam is tearing the heart and soul out of the West!”
“May I remind you, Theod,” Zared said very carefully, “that as a Duke of the West, you are under Askam’s direct overlordship?”
“As am I,” Herme said, “and yet I find myself agreeing with both Theod and these two good merchants here.”
“Recreating the position of King of Achar would tear Tencendor apart,” Zared observed, but his tone was milder, and his eyes thoughtful.
“It is going to tear apart anyway,” Goldman said very quietly. “The tensions between Acharite and the other races would see war within a generation. You understand the Acharite perception of injustice, Zared. You share it. Sir Prince, you are rightful heir to the throne of Achar. Take it. Take it and direct some of this tension rather than letting it swell out of control. Take it … sire.”
When Goldman and Heavorand retired, Zared waved at Herme and Theod to remain.
He sat motionless, silent, for a long time before he finally spoke.
“My friends, I do not know what to think. My parents raised me to believe in Tencendor, in Axis’ and then Caelum’s right to rule over all races. They raised me to believe that the Achar nation, and its monarchy, was dead.”
“Zared,” Herme said. “Re-establishing the monarchy of Achar is not treason. As with FreeFall, Isfrael and Sa’Domai, an Acharite king would still owe homage and fealty to the Throne of the Stars. Any discussion of reclaiming the throne of Achar is not mouthing treason against Caelum, only discussing what many – nay, most – people in the West and North want.”
Zared was silent, remembering how he had looked at the circlet on Priam’s brow and wondered how well it – and the throne – would fit him.
“Where do your loyalties lie, Herme? Theod?” he eventually asked. “With whom?”
“With StarSon Caelum,” Herme said unhesitatingly. “First.”
“And then with you,” Theod finished. “Goldman has said much of what was in our hearts as well. Zared, if both the Master of the Guilds in Carlon, as well as two of the West’s most powerful nobles, have come to your doorstep with the same speeches on their lips and hopes in their hearts, how can you refuse to consider their words?”
“This whole issue has been prompted by Askam’s taxes,” Zared said. “What happens if Caelum forces him to rescind them? What then?”
“No!” Theod said. “These taxes are but the final straw. Zared, the ‘issue’ is fed by the fact that for decades resentment has grown among the Acharites at the way they have been treated. Yes, the SunSoar order is great and good, but it doesn’t change the fact that the Acharites have been denuded of their monarch and their nationhood. Man, listen to me! In you they can see the legitimate heir, and in the North they can see what prosperity awaits them under your rule!”
“This problem is not going to go away, Zared,” Herme said. “Not so long as Askam – or a Prince of the West – remains.”
“I will think on what you have said this evening,” Zared said, then raised his eyes from the fork he’d been fidgeting with. “There is something else I think should be considered.”
“Yes?” Herme asked.
“How will Askam react at this Council? We all know how bad his debts are, we know he needs the monies the taxes will raise.”
“And we all know how he hates you … and your success,” Theod said. “Look how he has striven to frustrate your heart these past years.”
Zared looked at him sharply, then chose to ignore the last remark. He did not like to think of what implications this evening’s conversation had for himself and Leagh, nor even for the peace of Tencendor itself. How would Caelum react? “My friends, I think it best to be prepared for whatever this Council might bring.”
Zared paused, then spoke his own treason. “I have given orders to move the bulk of my troops out of Severin to within several leagues of Jervois Landing. If I might suggest …”
Herme grinned. “Where would you like our troops moved?”
Leagh sat with Zenith, watching RiverStar preen before her mirror. Leagh wished she were in any chamber but this one – even Drago must surely be a less disagreeable companion than Zenith’s elder sister! She shifted herself into a more comfortable position in her chair, and let her mind wander from the sisters’ conversation.
She had been in Sigholt over two weeks. Waiting. Waiting for the other heads of the Five Families to arrive. Waiting for Caelum to put her out of her misery and tell her his decision regarding her marriage. Waiting for Zared.
Once Askam had sent his escort north via riverboat and horse, Zenith had led Leagh, Askam and their two body servants into Spiredore. Leagh had never been in the tower previously, and its magic – as also the evidence of Zenith’s power – had almost overwhelmed her. Askam had remained stoutly silent, but Leagh had noticed that even he had paled when, emerging at the top of one of the bizarre stairwells, they had beheld Sigholt at the end of an enchanted corridor of blue mist.
On her first day in Sigholt, Leagh had been consumed with excitement. What would Caelum say? Where was Zared? But