Scrivener’s Tale

‘Good.’

‘But you said you were of the dragon and thus Shar.’ Cassien looked at him puzzled, unsure of what to think of this.

‘Correct again. How can it be, I presume you’re asking? All I can say is that it is. In the reign of the king known as Celimus — do you remember hearing of him?’ Cassien nodded. ‘Well, my loyalties were to his enemy. His enemy’s name was Wyl Thirsk.’

‘Thirsk,’ Cassien repeated. ‘Should I know it?’

‘Only if you’re a scholar of history. The Thirsk family were the celebrated soldiers of Morgravia. Each son became a general to his Morgravian king. Wyl was general, briefly, for King Magnus before the heir Celimus wore the crown, but the Thirsk ancestral line died with Wyl. His sister died young and in unfortunate circumstances.’

‘He never married? Had children?’

‘He did both. What I’m about to tell you I have not uttered previously to any person.’

Cassien frowned. ‘Why? Is it a secret?’

‘Yes. It is also dangerous knowledge.’

‘But you trust me with it.’

‘I do but only because you believe in magic.’

‘Why me?’

‘Because I am going to make you part of that secret.’

Fynch stared at him and Cassien felt impaled by the golden gaze. Twilight would be closing in on the forest but he was struck by the notion that the man seemed to glow with an internal light.

‘Wyl Thirsk’s life was profoundly changed by a powerful magic. It matters not the whys and wherefores to you — only that it existed. He unwittingly became King Cailech and ultimately emperor of the three realms of Morgravia, Briavel and Razors, through that magic’s curse. It’s Wyl and Valentyna’s descendants who are our current generation of royals: Magnus, Florentyna and Darcelle.’

An owl hooted once in the distance and Cassien could hear animals bumbling around not far from where Fynch sat. His sharp sense of smell picked up an aroma that he suspected was gobel … probably a pair.

Fynch continued. ‘The heir, Magnus, a fine young, healthy prince, died as a result of an accident, which was a shock to everyone. He left behind two sisters, one barely out of childhood, both of them groomed to be excellent wives — although I daresay Florentyna would go slit-eyed on me to hear it.’ He put a finger in the air. ‘That said, Florentyna has accepted her role with strength and energy.’

‘So where is the problem?’

‘Her sister, Darcelle. She is younger than Florentyna by five years, the spoilt child of the family, but she is quick and smart, fiery and very beautiful.’

‘She sounds like a perfect woman.’

Fynch shook his head. ‘Far from it. She demonstrates more of the arrogant, brutal brilliance of the mountain king’s ancestry than the subtle and more modest strength of the Thirsk blood that runs so strongly in Florentyna. Darcelle is cunning and capable. With Magnus dead and the way open for a queen to rule, an empress’s role to play — well, Darcelle suddenly fancies herself in that part. Up until Magnus’s death, I’m uncertain whether it had occurred to her that a woman might rule. Perhaps the possibility was too far away from the third child for it to concern her.’

‘Exactly how cunning is she?’

‘Enough to potentially consider regicide.’

Understanding erupted across Cassien’s expression. ‘I see.’

‘And she would make a terrible ruler. I suspect Darcelle is capable of some atrocious decision-making as long as it serves her needs. And with the wrong people pushing her she could be convinced to make the worst decision of her life.’

‘So you want me to protect Florentyna.’

Fynch glowed. ‘Yes. Protect her from her sister and those who would see her ousted. But here is the problem, Cassien. Florentyna will not hear a bad word against her younger sister.’

‘Do we have any sense of timing on the danger?’

His older companion shrugged. ‘It is present and immediate. Florentyna has not had much luck. She was promised to the eldest prince of Tallinor. He became king a few years ago and the wedding ceremony — a mere formality — was to take place at the cathedral.’

‘Let me guess. He was murdered.’

Fynch shook his head. ‘Close enough though. The king’s ship was accidentally sunk en route, smashed onto rocks during a storm. Two hundred souls were lost that day. Florentyna was deeply withdrawn for her moons of mourning. She is a sensitive girl but don’t let that fool you into believing she doesn’t possess a will of iron when required.’ Fynch pointed a bony finger. ‘Test it by saying something negative about her sister.’

‘Does Darcelle have a match?’

‘A mighty one, the King of Cipres. The power it brings in so many hidden ways can’t be ignored. Darcelle must marry King Tamas and here’s the most interesting part of all.’ Cassien looked over at him. ‘He’s fifteen years her senior and Tamas seemingly adores her as much as she adores the notion of being Queen of Cipres. In his presence she is almost gentle and genuinely fond of him.’ Fynch laughed. ‘A match made by Shar.’

‘And of course she would return to Cipres.’

‘If Darcelle goes to Cipres, I no longer have to fret about the threat from within.’

‘So where is the hurdle?’

‘Darcelle may not want to leave Morgravia just yet. The empress is not encouraging her to rush away. Her stepmother, whom she is very close to, wants her to have this Ciprean crown but again I think they’re clinging to their youngest.’ Fynch stood. He shrugged. ‘I can’t second-guess women. Walk with me. It is time to return to Loup.’

‘I don’t understand why you need me especially.’

‘I need your fighting talents and especially that magical skill you possess that you don’t speak of to anyone.’

Cassien halted abruptly. ‘What do you know?’

‘Only what Romaine has told me, for we both know that you have hidden this aspect from your fellow Brothers. Oh, Brother Josse knows there is something rather special about you but he doesn’t really know much at all. He believes you can “see” things. Puts it down to being in tune with the spiritual world.’

‘And you?’

Fynch urged him to move forward, his look gentle and reassuring. ‘Romaine has spoken of the magic you call “roaming” as dangerous to the forest creatures but that you’re careful.’

‘I shall have words with Romaine about her loose mouth.’

‘I must assure you that she was torn between her loyalty to you and her duty to her king. Be assured, she loves you, Cassien.’

‘So tell me how you want me to protect the queen? Should I call her a queen or an empress?’

Fynch nodded. ‘Confusing, I agree. In Morgravia she is addressed as its queen. But she also sits on the imperial throne and is an empress by right, although that increasingly seems to be in title only. The union of the three realms, so strong under Cailech, has been whittled away gradually. She hasn’t travelled enough to each for people in Briavel or the Razors to know their empress.’

‘How is she addressed?’

‘In Morgravia as Queen Florentyna.’

‘And surely she has an army to command,’ Cassien retorted.