Kingsbane (Empirium 2)

Rielle retrieved her dressing gown from the floor and hurried over.

A crowd, perhaps one or two hundred strong, pressed up against the iron gates that separated the city from Baingarde’s lowest stone yards. Some pounded against the gates with their fists; others waved crimson banners. Through the closed windows, Rielle could hear the muffled sounds of their voices, chanting something over and over.

A chill swept through her. “What are they saying?”

Without a word, Tal opened the nearest window. Outside on the terrace, Atheria stood looking down upon the crowd, her ears pricked and alert. At once, Rielle heard their shouts.

Blood Queen!

Blood Queen!

She stepped back from the window, immediately returning to the snowy ridges of Polestal. There, the villagers had bellowed the same words at her, their voices hoarse with anger and fear in the wake of what she had done—that man, a pile of blood and bones at her feet.

And now here, in her home, in her own city, the same angry words met her ears.

“Is it the first time this has happened?” asked Audric softly.

“No,” Tal replied. “While you were in Kirvaya, it began. Only a few at first, but a larger crowd gathers each day. Ah.” Tal pointed grimly. “Here come the resurrectionists.”

“The what?” Rielle crept closer, her heart beating fast, and saw a new, smaller group of people, all dressed in white and gold, come rushing down the road. They plunged into the gathered crowd, bellowing things Rielle could not understand, for there was suddenly too much chaos to pick out words. She heard only furious yelling voices, a distant angry din. She watched the crowd scatter and merge—gold warring red. Across the yard ran a small squadron of the royal guard, swords flashing. A frantic bell rang from one of the white towers capping the stone wall.

“You’ve missed much while on your travels,” Tal said. “The resurrectionists is what some call them. The name they’ve given themselves is the House of the Second Sun. Apparently, they formed shortly after Ludivine reappeared, not dead but alive. They have become rather obsessed with you and your work. They walk through the streets, re-creating the scene of Ludivine’s death and resurrection, and her reappearance at your anointing.”

“My God,” Audric muttered, turning away from the window.

But Rielle stepped closer, pressing her fingers to the glass. She smiled a little to see those whirling white and gold robes, locked in angry combat with the red-bannered dissidents. Her defenders.

“And the others?” she asked. “They believe me to be the Blood Queen, it seems.”

“The more radical among them have even begun calling for your death,” Tal replied. “Often and loudly. Odo has been sending some of his spies to taverns throughout the city and then reporting back to me daily, keeping me apprised of any plots.”

Rielle laughed. “Yes, I’d like to see what plots they could concoct that would endanger me for even a moment.”

Audric turned, frowning. “This is not something to take lightly, my love. If word comes of what happened in Kirvaya—”

He fell silent.

Tal shut the window. “What happened in Kirvaya?”

Rielle threw Audric an irritated look. “If I’m going to talk about this, I should like to get dressed first.”

“Very well.” Tal’s gaze flitted down her body as he stepped past her toward the door. “Can you both please come to my office, once you’ve made yourselves decent?”

“Yes,” Rielle said, “and Ludivine will join us.”

“As will Miren,” Tal added.

Rielle felt a surge of annoyance at the mention of Tal’s lover, the Grand Magister of the Forge. Telling Tal without an audience would be dreadful enough. “Must she join us?”

“Yes, she must,” Tal snapped. “I’m tired of bearing the burden of you alone.”

Rielle went rigid, stunned, as if he had slapped her.

Tal’s expression shifted at once. He looked at her in horror, as if she had been the one to say that terrible thing. “I didn’t mean that, Rielle. You aren’t a burden to me.”

“If Rielle didn’t love you so much,” Audric said evenly, “I would break your arm for that. Leave us. Now.”

Tal looked as if he wanted to say more, but instead he inclined his head and left them, and once Evyline had gone, Rielle dressed in silence, wordlessly accepting Audric’s kiss between her shoulder blades.

But no amount of kisses could erase Tal’s words from her mind—particularly because she realized now that they had already existed there, half-made. Tal voicing them aloud had merely solidified them and brought into sharp clarity their twin truth.

If she was a burden to Tal, to any of them, then perhaps that was only fair. For the burden of their humanity, pale and fragile in comparison to her own, something she was expected to imitate and admire despite its smallness, was one she had carried her entire life.

• • •

They gathered in Tal’s office after the midday meal—Rielle, Audric, Ludivine, Tal, and Miren. Rielle kept her eyes on the floor as she began to speak, but then, as the story of everything that had happened in Kirvaya tumbled out, she gradually lifted her chin until she was looking right at Tal, as if she were driving her words into his skull, daring him to protest.

When she had finished, with Audric holding her hand and Ludivine’s presence in her mind a reassuring softness, like the weight of a sleepy kitten in her lap, the room was silent for a long moment.

Then Miren, leaning on Tal’s desk, blew out a breath. Her delicate features, heavily freckled, were tight with worry.

“Well,” she said, “the House of the Second Sun will be happy, once they hear of this.”

Tal glared at her. “This isn’t funny, Miren.”

“No, it’s not.” She crossed her arms across her chest. In the light from the windows, her red curls glinted cheerfully. “How much of this did you know?”

“None of it.” Tal dragged a hand across his face. “Not Corien, not the angels or the Gate, and certainly not that Rielle had been experimenting with her power in such a way.”

Miren raised her eyebrows. “And here I thought you and Rielle were so close.”

“This is not the time or place to have that conversation,” Tal muttered.

“And what conversation is that, exactly?” Audric asked.

“A private one,” Tal said with a dark look at Miren. “We cannot protect you, Rielle, if you keep secrets from us.”

Rielle stiffened. “I need no protection.” e retrieved her dressing gown from the floor and hurried over.

A crowd, perhaps one or two hundred strong, pressed up against the iron gates that separated the city from Baingarde’s lowest stone yards. Some pounded against the gates with their fists; others waved crimson banners. Through the closed windows, Rielle could hear the muffled sounds of their voices, chanting something over and over.

A chill swept through her. “What are they saying?”

Without a word, Tal opened the nearest window. Outside on the terrace, Atheria stood looking down upon the crowd, her ears pricked and alert. At once, Rielle heard their shouts.

Blood Queen!

Blood Queen!

She stepped back from the window, immediately returning to the snowy ridges of Polestal. There, the villagers had bellowed the same words at her, their voices hoarse with anger and fear in the wake of what she had done—that man, a pile of blood and bones at her feet.

And now here, in her home, in her own city, the same angry words met her ears.

“Is it the first time this has happened?” asked Audric softly.

“No,” Tal replied. “While you were in Kirvaya, it began. Only a few at first, but a larger crowd gathers each day. Ah.” Tal pointed grimly. “Here come the resurrectionists.”

“The what?” Rielle crept closer, her heart beating fast, and saw a new, smaller group of people, all dressed in white and gold, come rushing down the road. They plunged into the gathered crowd, bellowing things Rielle could not understand, for there was suddenly too much chaos to pick out words. She heard only furious yelling voices, a distant angry din. She watched the crowd scatter and merge—gold warring red. Across the yard ran a small squadron of the royal guard, swords flashing. A frantic bell rang from one of the white towers capping the stone wall.

“You’ve missed much while on your travels,” Tal said. “The resurrectionists is what some call them. The name they’ve given themselves is the House of the Second Sun. Apparently, they formed shortly after Ludivine reappeared, not dead but alive. They have become rather obsessed with you and your work. They walk through the streets, re-creating the scene of Ludivine’s death and resurrection, and her reappearance at your anointing.”

“My God,” Audric muttered, turning away from the window.

But Rielle stepped closer, pressing her fingers to the glass. She smiled a little to see those whirling white and gold robes, locked in angry combat with the red-bannered dissidents. Her defenders.

“And the others?” she asked. “They believe me to be the Blood Queen, it seems.”

“The more radical among them have even begun calling for your death,” Tal replied. “Often and loudly. Odo has been sending some of his spies to taverns throughout the city and then reporting back to me daily, keeping me apprised of any plots.”

Rielle laughed. “Yes, I’d like to see what plots they could concoct that would endanger me for even a moment.”

Audric turned, frowning. “This is not something to take lightly, my love. If word comes of what happened in Kirvaya—”

He fell silent.

Tal shut the window. “What happened in Kirvaya?”

Rielle threw Audric an irritated look. “If I’m going to talk about this, I should like to get dressed first.”

“Very well.” Tal’s gaze flitted down her body as he stepped past her toward the door. “Can you both please come to my office, once you’ve made yourselves decent?”

“Yes,” Rielle said, “and Ludivine will join us.”

“As will Miren,” Tal added.

Rielle felt a surge of annoyance at the mention of Tal’s lover, the Grand Magister of the Forge. Telling Tal without an audience would be dreadful enough. “Must she join us?”

“Yes, she must,” Tal snapped. “I’m tired of bearing the burden of you alone.”

Rielle went rigid, stunned, as if he had slapped her.

Tal’s expression shifted at once. He looked at her in horror, as if she had been the one to say that terrible thing. “I didn’t mean that, Rielle. You aren’t a burden to me.”

“If Rielle didn’t love you so much,” Audric said evenly, “I would break your arm for that. Leave us. Now.”

Tal looked as if he wanted to say more, but instead he inclined his head and left them, and once Evyline had gone, Rielle dressed in silence, wordlessly accepting Audric’s kiss between her shoulder blades.

But no amount of kisses could erase Tal’s words from her mind—particularly because she realized now that they had already existed there, half-made. Tal voicing them aloud had merely solidified them and brought into sharp clarity their twin truth.

If she was a burden to Tal, to any of them, then perhaps that was only fair. For the burden of their humanity, pale and fragile in comparison to her own, something she was expected to imitate and admire despite its smallness, was one she had carried her entire life.

• • •

They gathered in Tal’s office after the midday meal—Rielle, Audric, Ludivine, Tal, and Miren. Rielle kept her eyes on the floor as she began to speak, but then, as the story of everything that had happened in Kirvaya tumbled out, she gradually lifted her chin until she was looking right at Tal, as if she were driving her words into his skull, daring him to protest.

When she had finished, with Audric holding her hand and Ludivine’s presence in her mind a reassuring softness, like the weight of a sleepy kitten in her lap, the room was silent for a long moment.

Then Miren, leaning on Tal’s desk, blew out a breath. Her delicate features, heavily freckled, were tight with worry.

“Well,” she said, “the House of the Second Sun will be happy, once they hear of this.”

Tal glared at her. “This isn’t funny, Miren.”

“No, it’s not.” She crossed her arms across her chest. In the light from the windows, her red curls glinted cheerfully. “How much of this did you know?”

“None of it.” Tal dragged a hand across his face. “Not Corien, not the angels or the Gate, and certainly not that Rielle had been experimenting with her power in such a way.”

Miren raised her eyebrows. “And here I thought you and Rielle were so close.”

“This is not the time or place to have that conversation,” Tal muttered.

“And what conversation is that, exactly?” Audric asked.

“A private one,” Tal said with a dark look at Miren. “We cannot protect you, Rielle, if you keep secrets from us.”

Rielle stiffened. “I need no protection.”