The King of the Crags by Stephen Deas

Author:Stephen Deas
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Fantasy
ISBN: 9780451464002
Publisher: Gollancz
Published: 2010-01-01T13:00:00+00:00

26

JEIROS

Jeiros, acting grand master, leaned back in his chair and sighed. On his desk he had six letters. The ink was still fresh and drying. Three letters were to three sisters, all saying the same thing: You are now a queen. The other three were to their eyrie-masters, carrying the necessary instructions. Instructions to pass on the mysteries that only kings and queens were permitted to know. And a warning about one or two other things.

“I don’t know how you manage,” he said. The other alchemist in the room, who’d written the letters to the eyrie-masters, was Vioros. As Zafir’s senior alchemist, he was the closest thing Jeiros had to a deputy. At least, he was the closest thing that could be found at midday in the approximate vicinity of the Adamantine Palace when one king, one queen and one prince had all wound up dead on the same day. “Bellepheros once wrote two of these in one month, and we never heard the end of it. But three! And in a day! How have you survived such a mistress?”

Vioros stuck out his bottom lip and shrugged. “Her mother was never any trouble to us and nor has Zafir been, since she took the crown. And not all of these letters are actually necessary, Jeiros. Jehal isn’t dead yet.”

“Yet being the significant word.” Jeiros carefully took a handful of down and sprinkled it over the drying ink. “I’ll be surprised if he lasts the night. And if he does, he won’t last the week. The wound has gone bad and he’s lost so much blood. That’s that, I’m afraid. The end of him. Nothing any of us can do.” Jeiros yawned. “If he’s strong then he’ll linger a while. But you’re right: strictly, he’s not actually dead yet. The speaker’s choices are to let him waste away in stinking rotting agony for a few days or put him out of his misery. The latter would be the merciful thing to do, but I suppose she might balk at that under the circumstances. Besides, I’m not sure she’s one for mercy, is she?”

Vioros glanced sharply up. “Or she could find herself a blood-mage.”

“Or that.” For a few moments neither of them said anything, as though Vioros had suddenly let a bad smell into the room and they were both waiting for the air to clear.

“I don’t know why Zafir has me trying to keep him alive anyway,” muttered Jeiros at last. “Why bother to go to all that trouble and then cut off his head anyway?”

“Oh, I don’t think she wants him dead.”

Jeiros sighed again and shook his head. “Madness. I didn’t want to be grand master.”

“You’re not.”

“Oh, come on! Bellepheros disappeared almost half a year ago. If he’s not dead, he’s certainly not coming back!” Jeiros rubbed his eyes and waved at the letters. “I was much happier at the redoubt. And Bellepheros never had to deal with anything like this. A quarter of the Order dead at the hands of a rogue dragon; all our stocks wiped out; eyries across the realms running short.

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