Empire of Ashes

Chapter LXXXVI - Pride Before the Fall

Temris Ragnyrsbane was smiling. The dawn light caught in his hair, turning it from dark straw to true molten gold. He was surrounded by what looked like half a legion of royal guard. Anlai, Fendur and Melia came behind him, kept firmly separate. The king's bastard was walking with Melia, ignoring her husband's gut-liquefying scowl.

Despite the cold, Tem was only wearing a shirt, so he would be shivering when we were running for our lives. Over it, he had leather bracers to protect the splint on his wrist. They were allowed because they weren't metal, but I would have felt better had Tem kept his mouth shut about the no-armour rule and worn his vambraces instead. Below the bracers were a set of manacles. Unlike the cheap, primitive sets they had used in Canton, these had a lock and key. They were the same sort I had worn in the slave column, and that sent a shiver rattling through me.

The others were halted under the pillars, but Tem was brought right onto the lawn, where he sent his eyes skimming over the audience until he found me. His smile grew a little wider. A heartbeat later, his attention flitted back to the king, and he held up his shackled hands with an expression of utter disgust.

"Were these really necessary?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, they were," Herox drawled. "Search him."

Tem started laughing. He was still laughing when the guards closed in, two of them holding him still while another searched. I was not sure what they were expecting to discover. Hidden knives or a vial of poison, perhaps, but it was a long shot. Eventually, they backed away, having found nothing, of course.

"Gods, you're scared, aren't you?" Tem asked. The sheer arrogance in his tone instilled a whisper of confidence in me. "I'm standing here alone and injured and shackled, and you're afraid of me."

The king blinked. For the briefest of moments, he just stood there, staring, and I knew Tem's words had bitten deep. By the time he had recovered, it was a fraction too late. The whole Anglian court had seen him hesitate. He knew it, too. He plastered disdain across his face, as if he simply didn't think the taunt deserved a response, but I wasn't fooled.

"You're right to be afraid," Tem told him.

Herox spat. He was tempted. I could see it in his eyes. He was tempted to call the whole thing off there and then, and the only thing that outweighed the temptation was the fear that it was exactly what Tem was trying to goad him into doing.

Before the king could decide either way, Tem tipped his head to one side. "I hope you're not in a hurry. I need a minute to put an edge on my sword."

He scowled. "We have plenty of swords."

"I will have my sword, Your Majesty. It is only fair."

"As you wish, Lanakson," the king sighed. He snapped his fingers at the closest guards, and one of them disappeared to fetch the sword while the second unlocked Tem's chains.

Another snap, and Anlai and Fendur were escorted up the stairs and situated on the northern walkway. They resisted as much as they were able, with stilted steps and surly pauses, but there were four guards to each of them and it was futile. Melia was allowed to remain below with the king's bastard.

The first guard returned with the naked blade and offered it over. The king had not been exaggerating earlier — the second the hilt touched his palm, I saw half a dozen crossbowmen on the roof crouch and take aim. They were taking no chances.

Tem checked the edge of his sword. It was such a plain thing — metal and wood and leather without an ounce of decoration. It was a hand-and-a-half sword, which the northerners favoured so they could fight with or without shields. The hilt was scuffed and messy, and the blade was nicked and mottled.