Read The Queen of Thieves: The Line of Kings Trilogy Book Three Online
Authors: Craig R. Saunders,Craig Saunders
When
Asram closed the door to Queen Selana's chambers the Queen turned the full
force of her attention on Rena. Rena stood proudly before the woman. For some
reason she did not want to disappoint the Queen of Thieves, the Queen of
Witches. She felt little fear - a little was healthy, perhaps - but stood more
in awe of the Queen. She could
see
the power radiating from Selana. With
her new, remarkable sight, the Queen was even more radiant. A terrible
mistress, no doubt, but with pure beauty without and within.
'May
I?' said the Queen.
Rena
smiled, because she could see the hunger in the Queen's eyes. She did not
understand the woman...if she was even a woman as such...but she could see the
love of a child in her eyes.
Rena
no longer found it remarkable that her sight remained, despite losing her eyes
to Beatrain's magics.
She
did not tell anyone of the other things that she saw, too, though. The auras.
And the Queen of Thieves aura was like nothing she had ever seen before. It was
remarkable, a shifting, whirling vortex around the woman. The power...the power
was...
Rena
had not the words to describe it, other than in parts glorious, in parts
terrifying.
But
she was still a woman, and a woman who wanted to feel the child. Rena would not
deny her that.
Rena
set the baby down upon the floor - luxuriantly carpeted in a ruby hue. Tarn,
usually quiet and thoughtful, more prone to observation than crying or
screaming, crawled toward the Queen.
'You've
been coddling him, girl. He should be walking by now.'
'It's
been a long walk...'
'It
has, hasn't it? And your new eyes? They suit you?'
So
the Queen did know. Well, thought Rena, if one Queen could be candid, then so
could she.
'My
Lady...your aura...you are nothing like us, are you?'
'Us?'
'The
race of men and women.'
Selana
laughed. 'I like you, girl. I like you. No, I am not like your kind. I am
something older...far older than you can imagine.'
'A
different people?'
Selana
shook her head. 'Not different, girl. The first people. I am a remnant. A creature
out of time. More, perhaps, like the Hierarchs than the humans. But that is
talk for another day, perhaps. For now, the present.'
'As
you will, my Lady.'
'I
must tell you, Rena. The Throne is not yours to take. Nor is it for the babe.
The babe has a role to play, though. He must call forth the power we need to
destroy the threat to these shores, and that is his role. He will never be
king, but in a thousand years time, his offspring will be lord of these lands
again.'
'How
can a baby call forth such power?' asked Rena.
'With
great risk. I cannot lie to a mother about her child. The spell I need requires
the child as the focus. Do you remember, Rena, the price the one called
Tulathia bid you, once, long ago?'
Rena
did. To risk that which was most important to her.
And
she realised that she could not deny the price. Tulathia was in the mists
before Madal's Gates, but she was not forgotten. The old witch had saved Rena
life...but more...the witch price could never, ever be denied.
She
suddenly felt like crying, but she would not shame Tulathia's memory, nor would
she blub like a child herself in front of the Queen.
'I
remember,' she admitted. 'I remember, and I will stand by the price.'
But
as she said this, she looked at her baby, now in the Queen's arms, and wondered
just what she was agreeing to.
'Know
this, girl; even if we win here, the Hierarchy will come again and again. But
win we must, and slumber we must make them. Until the time of the return. The
time of Caeus.'
'Caeus?'
she said, but she knew she had heard the name before. She remembered Tulathia,
years ago...speak of...a God?
'A
God,' she said.
Selana
smiled, a sad smile. 'No, child. Not a God. But close. No. He is my brother.'
*
Surrounded
by the trappings of war, Roskel, Redalane and Wexel sat at the head of the
throne room. The remaining eight Thanes - no Thane had replaced Hurth, who died
at the last king's hands, nor had the in-fighting in the Thanedom of Kar been
resolved following Orvane Wense's execution at Roskel's hands - were arrayed
before the three.
Rohir
was lost, but there was no time to mourn him. No body to bury, either.
So
many were lost. There would be time to honour them when the battle was done,
and if they lost, then it would not matter at all. Perhaps the Gods would
honour Sturma herself instead.
And
whatever the outcome of the battle, more would be lost yet, Roskel knew.
Perhaps all of them. Everyone in the room understood the gravity of their
situation. The Hierarchy were marching toward Naeth from the North and the
East. They would surround the outlying city and the castle of Naeth and lay
siege to it...there was no other way.
They
could abandon the city, travel south to the next largest redoubt in Sturma,
Redalane's Castle of Light in the Spar, but Roskel feared it would only delay
the inevitable. No, they had to make a stand here...
But
how?
How
could they fight firestorms with swords? How could they fight soldiers far
beyond their skills with no magic to speak of?
It
was hopeless. Each man in the room realised this.
Then,
Rena stepped in, and everything became worse.
*
It
wasn't Rena's fault that the preparations for war faltered and that the men
fell, for a moment, to stuttering. Largely, it was Selana that made the best
entrance, thought Roskel, gulping. For she barely wore any clothes at all.
Rena
stood beside the Queen of Thieves, a beautiful woman in her own right.
'My
ladies,' said Roskel, trying to maintain his composure. 'Tarn never had the
words to describe your beauty, Lady Rena. I see they would have been wasted,
for they would have been a pale reflection of you. It is truly an honour.'
Selana
flushed, and Roskel wasn't sure if he was glad of it, or terrified. Maybe a
little of both.
Rena,
for her part, maintained her composure perfectly.
'Thank
you, my Lord,' she said with a graceful bow.
'Lord
Farinder,' she continued, with a strong voice, aware that the Thanes knew well
enough who she was, though she had never met any of them. 'I have not come for
the throne. I have other business here. It is a woman's business. May we speak
in private?'
'The
Thanes and the Lord Protectors need to hear...'
'No,'
said Selana in a tone that brooked no argument, regardless of the power of the
men assembled in the room. And for their part, they knew they would concede
without so much as a grumble, for to look upon the Queen was to experience more
grace, more power, than they would ever know again. 'They do not need to hear
this. Lords Redalane, Wexel, Farinder...we must have words.'
Roskel
did not waste time arguing, either. He, Redalane and Wexel rose without further
question.
'And
Lord Farinder, you and I will be having words, too, I think,' she added.
Roskel
gulped again. Redalane grinned like only an old widower can, remembering the
tone of voice very well, despite the years his wife had been gone.
Selana
turned on her heel and swayed out. Rena left, too.
It
was a long time before the remaining Thanes resumed their conversations.
*
An
old woman stood before the guard at the gate to the castle. Her name was Shana
Lowboy, known in around about her home village as the widow Lowboy, or old
mother, but never openly called a witch.
Yet
that was what she was, and an accomplished one, at that.
'We're
coming in, young man,' said the widow Lowboy.
'I
can't...you have to understand...I can't...it's not that I don't want to...'
The
young man was obviously flustered, faced with a sweet old lady with a soft,
round face, like his grandmother. Ordinarily he wouldn't have even tried to
stop her. Even though she was a witch. It was obvious enough what she was. She
was powerful.
Witching
was frowned upon, maybe, but people knew enough of it to steer clear of a witch
and not cross them.
But
this witch was in a whole different league, not because she herself was a
witch...but because there were so
damn many of them
.
Behind
the one witch who was giving the young guard so much trouble, in such a nice
way, were maybe another hundred. Many of them were old, very old, but not all.
Some were as young as the guard himself, and he even counted a few children
among their number. Women, all, witches, all.
There
was no mistaking a witch, whether you called her such or not.
The
old witch continued to smile and leaned in close to the guard, as though to
whisper a secret in his ear. He leaned in, too.
The
widow Lowboy grabbed the young man between the legs in a vicious clenched fist.
Pleasantly as she could, she said, 'A woman's magic, young man, is a terrible
thing.'
The
young guard nodded to his laughing fellows.
'Let
them in,' he said, his voice straining.
The
old witch let him go and patted him on his mailed shoulder.
'Good
boy,' she said, and the Witches' Covenant entered Naeth. In one day, the city
of Naeth contained more power than the whole of Sturma.
Enough
to thwart the Hierarchy?
Not
even Selana could know. Sometimes the future was set, sometimes it wavered, but
where the Line of Kings and the return of the Sun Destroyers was concerned, the
future wavered and swam before even the most talented seer's eyes.
The
future was not certain, but with the arrival of the witches and the child heir,
they at last stood a chance...
*
Rena
sat with her legs crossed demurely on the Queen of Thieves' bed, understanding
full well that she had a role to play, and understanding, too, that the Queen
of Thieves greatest trick was her glamour - she made people believe what she
wanted.
A
trick Rena intended to learn, and fast. She released the shoulder strap from
her dress and fluffed her hair as the Lord Protectors and the Thane of Spar
entered the chamber, to be faced by two of the most beautiful women any of them
had ever seen.
Rena
almost smiled, but kept her face stern. The men didn't stand a chance.
'See
to your defences, my Lord Redalane. Aid has arrived.'
'Aid?'
'My
kind, Redalane, do not play dumb with me. You need magic to counter magic. The
Witches' Covenant are here to provide that service.'
'But
witches?' said Wexel, carefully...very carefully.
'Witches
are what? Wexel, dear man,' said Selana with deceptive calm.
'Witches...cure...ah...give
birth...'
'Perhaps
you should shut up,' said Roskel to his friend, not unkindly.
Wexel
coughed and nodded. He shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. Redalane and
Roskel, for their part, had more experience dealing with witches. It could not
be said that they took the meeting in their stride, but they did manage to
stand still, at least.
'Redalane,
use your resources. Do not be proud. And do not think the Covenant weak. Many
are more dangerous than a hundred men at arms. Remember this.'
With
a flick of her hand she dismissed Redalane like he was a nobody. He left
without complaint, but with a shallow, though respectful, bow.
'Wexel,'
said Selana. 'I will need Asram and the Crown of Kings...I know Durmont has the
crown now. Asram will be Rena's man. Oh, and Rena will not be taking the crown.
You and Roskel will remain Lord Protectors. Though you will need a third. May I
suggest Asram?'
'It
will be as you...suggest...' said Wexel.
'Rena,
dear child, Wexel, would you leave me with Lord Farinder a moment?'
Rena
felt for the man, she really did. Though she had only just met the man they
called the Thief King, she wouldn't want to see any man in such a position with
the Queen, for throughout the whole conversation...orders, if she was blunt,
she had studied the Queen's aura...and it was a furious red.
Roskel
was a man in too deep, she thought to herself as she closed the thick door
behind her and Wexel. She closed the door with a sigh, and let Wexel lead her
away before the shouting could start.
*