Book of Kayal: Houses of Light Page 2
Servak’s eyes started to tear but he held his emotions at bay before they spun out of control. “There is nothing more I have ever wished for than to stay with you somewhere far away from all these troubles. Believe me, I have thought of it many a night and day, to escape somewhere in the woods and take on new names and lives. But, an Emperor must value the comfort and safety of his people above his own.” He caressed her curly black hair.
“And what of the comfort and safety of his family?”
“They too are to come second. I do not regret the time we spent together for it made me who I am today, but everything has to end. We couldn’t possibly expect our lives to last forever.”
“There are ways to assure that, with proper knowledge and magic.”
He smiled. “The temporary is always more precious than the permanent. Besides, if we lived together for eons I risk having you get bored with me. And then what will I do?”
Two knocks on the door signaled that there was yet another guest eager to meet the Emperor. Cassandra cleared her eyes and headed towards the door. As soon as his wife was ready, Servak signaled the guards to allow entry to whoever came.
The doors opened and a small group of merchants entered, they sought to discuss minor matter of trade which had been delayed for a fair amount of time.
4
A crescent moon lit the skies of Nosgard when urgent news was delivered to the Emperor by an old friend. She made her way past the guards undetected and into Servak’s study, where he had been spending a significant portion of his nights lately preparing for the events about to unfold.
Only one person dared, and could, sneak into the citadel - Anaria Shadestrike. She appeared from behind the Emperor and said, “What a beautiful night!”
Servak continued to finish the small passage he was reading and then stood up. “The Link does not need to sneak her way into Gallecia for a private audience.”
“There was no need to do once, but needs seldom remain unchanged in my line of work.” She approached the Emperor and handed him a parchment with a few names written on them.
“What is this?”
“A list of Guild members I have personally eliminated after receiving disturbing news.”
He returned the parchment to its rightful owner and offered a judgmental gleam with it. “I thought that bond of comradeship is sacred even amongst assassins and thieves.”
“The sacred, too, has limits. The names you read once belonged to people who intended to assassinate you. I have investigated the matter and uncovered a great plot. The Guild can no longer be trusted. As of late I have been excluded from many meetings with the high-ranking members of the Guild. There has also been a lot of activity that should not be in times of peace. I sense something is in the working, something that they don’t want me to know.”
“Could be a natural reaction to the dragons’ arrival.”
“Then why exclude me? As the Link bridging you with the Guild it goes without saying that I share all information with you, as contracted. The Sky Wing’s presence isn’t something to be trifled with, we all know it, and it’s also a cause for the Guild to reevaluate their allegiances, I believe.”
“So they deem me unworthy of their allegiance,” interrupted Servak. His tone bore no signs of resentment or disappointment.
“They deem your gold too little,” Anaria corrected. She, of all people, knew just how the Guild gave out their loyalty, to the highest bidder. “I have reason to believe that assassins will be sent a paper with your name on it. And I no longer have the influence to change this.”
Servak grabbed a pitcher filled with wine and poured two cups of the expensive drink. He offered one to his guest and kept the other, slowly sipping from it every now and then. Anaria gladly accepted the offering and gulped it down in a flash. She immediately helped herself to another serving.
“Do not worry about this. As a matter of fact, I find the news rather convenient,” Servak said.
“You find news of a plot to assassinate you convenient?”
“It would fall smoothly into my plan.” He paused for a moment to refill his cup. “I have spent years thinking about the future of the Empire and found no way to guarantee its survival. With a highly dynamic plan, the odds could be swayed. And your news makes it possible for a plan to be properly set.”
“What do you intend to do, Servak?”
“To control the Empire, the Sky Wing would need to keep a legitimate heir alive to manipulate him. That would ensure the survival of one of my two sons, but not both. They will keep the one most prone to such manipulation alive and help him ascend to the throne. I intend to give them exactly what they want.”
“And condemn your people to an undeserved fate?”
“And give them a chance to reclaim what is theirs.” Servak clenched his fist and hit his desk. “Only with the illusion of victory can the Sky Wing be deceived. Only then can my plan be set to motion.”
“What will you do?”
“Nothing, but others will do much.” He approached his friend and held her firmly from the shoulders. “I have a request to ask of you. It is no command and you are free to reject it should you find it not to your liking.”
“All of your requests are not to my liking.” She gulped down her second drink. “What will you have me do?”
“I will have you stay by my side till the day comes when I ask you to take Salus far away, to a destination which will be revealed to you then, and give him a new life free from past memories.”
“Then you would ask of me to bind my hands while others strike at your back.”
“I would ask of you to be a much needed friend.”
If the Link had a life just slightly easier, she would have shed a tear at the Emperor’s words, but she was one kill too deep into her craft. “Then let us drink some more and enjoy our time as we once did.”
“I don’t recall such time, but the suggestion is much welcomed regardless.”
The night was at its peak and the news fairly grim, but the two old companions drank their fill like days of old, days filled with petty worries and pettier responsibilities. It was a greatly needed reprieve.
5
Servak believed that his enemies would be moving against him and his successors. His life as Emperor, and soldier of the people before that, taught him to trust his intuition, and it told him to expect an attempt on his life, for if he was to suddenly perish chaos would ensue within the Empire of Nosgard and opportunity would present itself to whoever was ready to claim his place. He was prepared for such events and so he put his plan in motion before his hidden nemesis had a chance to act.
Servak allowed himself to be exposed, for an attempt to be made on his life, changing his habits to be more ‘convenient’ to any would-be-assassin, but for a long time there were no signs of any such foe. He began to doubt his interpretation of events. He began to hope for a better future.
Oblivious of his father’s thoughts and preparations, Salus was ever so glad to be spending time with the Emperor and welcomed the change. Servak, believing that his time in this world was limited, made certain not to repeat the same mistakes, not to ignore his family and solely focus on his realm. After all, Lyra, his friend and companion during the Second Civil War of Man, often told him: “How do you expect to run an empire if you can’t handle your own life?” Finally, at the very end, he saw the wisdom in her words.
Servak and his two sons, Salus and Malus, got to talk for hours at a time and train together in the forests near the imperial city of Gallecia. Anaria would always be near, observing from the shadows and awaiting the time to come to make her move and fulfil the Emperor’s final request. One night, when Servak was close to dismissing the ideas of conspiracies against him, an assassin came. Anaria, spotting the murderer, made her move. She rushed towards Salus, the youngest of Servak’s son, to sneak him out of Gallecia and erase his existence.
The assassin decided to strike when Servak was most vulnerable, in his s
tudy.
Servak felt cold steel on his throat and finally got the evidence he needed about the conspiracy he believed was cooking. His time had come. “I have been expecting you, assassin. Would you allow me one luxury and tell me who ordered my death?” coldly and calmly, Servak asked.
“The Lady of Blades sent me,” the assassin answered, his voice resonating like that of a serpent’s and his whisper echoed unpleasantly in Servak’s ear.
Salus entered the room and saw his father sitting calmly as a shadowy figure stood behind him with a blade held to the Emperor’s neck. His first instinct drove him to size-up the enemy and estimate who held the advantage. It was an easy calculation. The assassin appeared to be a far more skilled and prepared foe than he could handle, even if he did not have his father’s life in his hands. The prince was helpless and he hated it.
“Demigod Emperor Servak Darkhide, the first of your name and title, the Guild has profited a great deal from its association with you in the past, but we are forced to turn our eyes elsewhere, to more lucrative clients.”
Servak smiled and said, “The Sky Wing sent you.” He then took a deep breath, remembering the days of old when his muscles were attuned to a much harsher environment and his reflexed unparalleled. It was a long time ago, but not long enough for him to be completely helpless. “Thank you for your time and please tell Pax, or whatever god you worship, that I will be a little late.”
A set of movements enhanced by the Emperor’s runes allowed him complete freedom from the assassin’s grasp. Servak, moving with lightning speed, avoided having his jugular severed and escaped with a shallow cut, but the assassin was not so lucky, for in a mere moment he found a small blade the Emperor had hidden in his sleeve deeply dug into the side of the neck.
The assassin had no chance against the Wolf Emperor, a name earned by blood and war. He should have used his blade before breaking words. Like all confident assassins, he did not. This miscalculation was his end.
Anaria, being close, ran into the study and scanned the room, finding the assassin bloody on the ground, fighting for a breath that never came, and Servak soaked in blood. Salus, who she came for, was standing motionless by the door. She looked at the Emperor, giving him a brief nod, knowing that it was time, and hit Salus on the head with her small leather-padded club, knocking him out.
Looking at his unconscious son, Servak said, “I’m sorry, son.”
Salus was quickly stripped from all his clothes and dressed in the bloody outfit of the dead assassin. The corpse was given the young prince’s attire and returned to where it first fell.
“Take this map and head away from civilization, where no human eye can follow.” Servak handed his most trusted friend a sealed envelope and commanded, “Go and never look back.”
Anaria, the Link and one of the few truly loyal allies Servak had, shed no tears and spoke no more words to her friend and Emperor, yet deep inside her she wanted to scream till she could no more. Her last mission, she decided, had just begun.
6
News about Salus’ death reached all ends of the Empire and sorrow prevailed amongst its populace for the Emperor’s grief.
Yet Servak alone knew that his youngest son was not dead, and he mourned for the hardship he was about to endure and the possibility that he had sentenced his son to execution, in a most unmerciful way. In the end, it appeared to Servak, he repeated the mistake of choosing the Empire’s welfare over that of his family, how disappointed would Lyra be if she knew of what he had done.
Anaria was diligent and wasted no time in delivering Salus – or whatever new name he would be given – to Keshish, a hermit who Servak entrusted his son’s care to.
It was Cassandra who told the Emperor of the hermit, when she still had the gift of sight, and it was her who made it possible to save the Empire from the clawed clutches of the ‘hidden enemy who would masquerade as an ally.’
Guests flooded the imperial citadel, supporting the Emperor in his time of need, of course not all of those guests were of pure intention. Politicians, merchants, artisans and officers came to offer their condolences. The time was perfect for his plan to be discussed with those of them whom he trusted, but he had to be weary of Teeban’s eyes and ears, for the Sky Wing ambassador’s reach was far and wide.
The five Voices of the Emperor were the first to come. Commander Chordus of the Peacekeeper Core, the defenders of the people, Countess Ganis, Asclepius’ heir and Keeper of Katabasis Keep, Duke Constantine, the leader of the notorious band of dragon slayers known as the Ichneumon Order, and many more flooded to Gallecia. These loyal men and women would be the ones to execute Servak’s will, but they were yet to be told.
The last one to come, as per the Emperor’s order, was Sol Placerat of the Golden Steeds, the imperial messengers, and one of the few men who refused to be given a title. He was the one to be handed the most important task of all, for he was to carry Servak’s word after his death for as long as was needed. Sol had the fate of the Empire in his firm hands
It was night when the gold-clad man arrived, and well past the waking hours of most.
“I apologize for my delay, Emperor.” Sol Placerat, humbly kneeled to the Demigod Emperor Servak.
“Your arrival is precise to the minute.”
“But not to the second.” He stood up and faced the Emperor as he liked to be faced, like a common citizen and friend.
The Emperor tired from sitting on the throne, for it exhausted him more every passing day, and decided it was finally a suitable time to escape this majestic prison. The throne itself was rather uncomfortable, as all who sat on it claimed, but the responsibility of being seated on it were of a far greater discomfort.
“You are an easy man to talk to, the only one who eagerly dismisses formality when in private audience.”
“I shall wear this compliment like a medal of honor.”
“I have a difficult task to ask of you, Sol.” The Emperor’s tone changed and Sol could see the wrinkles of concern show on his aged face. Sol remembered for a brief moment the first time he had seen Servak, before he was made Emperor. It was after the Gallecian Council had been defeated and their prisoners liberated. Sol was amongst the few who still remembered the Emperor not as a man with dominion over the continent, but as a young adult who did not know how to act and relied wholly on the guidance of his tutor, Rostam.
Sol paused for a moment, lost in thought, and said, “Your wish is my command, regardless of what title you hold.”
“This I cannot command you to do, for I will be no longer of this world when the time comes. Sol, what I ask of you will be most dangerous and encumbering.”
“Even more of a reason to see it completed. It is a great honor for a Golden Steed to bear the will of his master. What will you have me do?”
“What about the will of a friend?”
Sol smiled and said, “Even more so of an honor.”
“I will have you deliver these.” Servak produced a set of envelopes and handed them over to the Golden Steed. “These are not to be opened or seen by anyone other than who they were intended to. They are sealed and branded with my emblem along with the names of whose eyes they are meant for.”
Sol examined the contents he held without succumbing to the growing curiosity of revealing them, a trait embedded in all Golden Steeds from initiation. The Golden Steed code of honor was engraved so deeply into their lives that some scholars came to see it more as a religion than a simple code, for the Golden Steeds lived, breathed and acted by this code until long after their service was ended.
His thoughts returning to the moment, Sol noticed the names on each one of these envelopes and was relieved that he knew them all, for they all had the Emperor’s friendship in common. “When would you have me deliver these?”
“As soon as you hear of my death.”
“How thoughtful of you to have me preoccupied in most sad days. I will carry your will to the letter. Consider it done, Emperor.” Sol was about t
o say his farewells, but realized that the news he heard brought another pressing matter into light. “What will you have of the steeds after your…embrace by Pax?”
“I will have you go into hiding until a worthy leader presents himself. You, the Golden Steeds, will be the ones who judge the worthiness of the men following in my steps. Till the day comes, live your lives however you see fit.”
“I have been born in an unfortunate time where my service was not required by many, but during your reign this was all compensated for. I fear that the leader you want us to wait for will never come to be, for I can think of no man or god who can continue your legacy.”
“It’s not my legacy alone, Sol, but yours and many others’ too.” The Emperor took a deep breath, aching to share his plan with he who would most benefit from knowing it. “Sol, I trust that before you know it you will have your deliverer and he will be a most worthy leader.”
Sol Placerat cracked a smile and offered a courteous bow, for the purpose of comedy rather than formality, and departed. This was the last time the two shared words, but it would not be forgotten by either of them for the remaining of their existence, and long after this encounter, it will be written of that day and these words shared among two of the greatest heroes Nosgard has ever seen.
7
When the assassins came for Servak once more he was poorly prepared. Again, he presented the murderers with many opportunities, and again he was kept waiting.
They came under the veil of night, when the Emperor and his wife slept, completely occupied with their pleasant dreams which took them far away from all worldly worries. The first man stabbed Cassandra in the throat, inflicting a grievous wound that claimed her life. Her brief struggle woke Servak. And his wrath was terrible.
The Emperor had no time to mourn his beloved wife. He barely dodged the knife of the second assassin and it grazed his shoulder instead of piercing his heart.
Servak knew he had to die this night, for the sake of deliverance, but he needed to do so in a matter fitting his plot. He needed to be next to Thalia’s blade so that it could consume his soul and preserve his will.