He hobbled back to the bed and rang the bell there, summoning servants and physicans alike. “Bathe me,” he said to the servants. As they scurried away to fetch water and build up a fire, he turned to the physicians. “Prepare a litter for me,” he said. “See that a boat is provisioned; I will go downriver that way. The business is urgent.”
Being on the river eased him. Though the stone walls of Cortes Immer kept out the summer heat, they also held in the smells and sounds of the fortress. Here on the river, as the current carried his boat down, fresher air blew through the cabin and the gurgle of water soothed his ears. He remembered being Alured and how he had loved to play in water, splashing in shallows, swimming in the pools of a river … he could not remember where. His leg, which had been swollen and hot for so long, so painful he could not put weight on it, now shrank a little day by day. His broken ribs eased a little, though any sudden jar sent a spike of pain through his side.
Though he reminded himself daily that he was Visli Vaskronin, Duke of Immer, and all on the boat called him by his title, the water gave him back Alured, one fragile memory at a time.
He was entirely Immer, however, when he thought ahead to the port cities, for there he had come to his title and his rule for the first time. As Immer, on the advice of the one who shared his body, he had defied Kieri Phelan and flogged and tortured those who had opposed him. He had learned to despise Phelan for his weakness, for his refusal to use torture against enemies. Phelan had finally left him alone, withdrawn his troops, and he, the new Duke of Immer, had had to finish his conquest by himself. And he had done it.
He knew more about Kieri Phelan than Phelan knew about him, thanks to his advisor. More about Phelan than other people knew. Phelan also had served his master but had not been worthy of the choice given to young Alured. He had run away, weakling that he was, and though others had saved him, brought him to power, that was his flaw. That weakness would bring him down in the end.
All through one afternoon on the river, he thought about that. No one feared Kieri Phelan as they feared him. And because they feared him more, he could command more. When he came to power, when he ruled Tsaia and Fintha … he would confront Phelan and defeat him. Army to army, commander to commander, he would prove he was worthy to be king of all. To wear the crown, any crown he wanted, all the crowns at once, if he chose.
The sun went down, and the boat, now tied to trees by the river’s edge, tugged only lightly at its mooring. With the dark and the smell of the river and the little gurgle of the water moving by … he slid back into Alured, the Alured before … the Alured before hunger and thirst and exhaustion and pain. Slowly, the memories his advisor did not want him to have, memories that had frayed, been torn away one time or another … those memories touched at the edges, giving him back a whole sequence. Alured almost remembered parents … but the faces would not come clear. He slept and dreamed of towers and gold and trumpets blowing and his name shouted by crowds as he rode by.
Alured-Visli Vaskronin, Duke of Immer and future king of everything, arrived at Immerdzan in the evening. He was able to stand, though the steps up from the river dock to the street exhausted him even with the help of his physicians. He was glad to ride in a carriage the rest of the way to his palace and glad that—as the night thickened—no one seemed to recognize him. The harbormaster reported that his messenger had arrived, but Blessing had not sailed to Immerdzan. He felt the stones of the necklace shift across his chest. East … that would be Ka-Immer. His messenger had reached Immerdzan and undoubtedly Ka-Immer as well. If Blessing was there, the harbormaster would detain the ship. If it had not arrived yet, all the better. Tomorrow he would go to Ka-Immer. He would recognize Dorrin Verrakai if the harbormaster did not; he remembered the tall, narrow-faced woman who had treated him with cool and distant courtesy edged with contempt.
What did I tell you about enemies?
His advisor was back.
She scorned you; when you take the crown, destroy her.
Ways to do that ran through his mind, vivid instructions from his advisor. He argued. The woman was old, not attractive. Why bother when she would die soon enough anyway? All he wanted was the crown and the other jewels, the power to rule everything.
That is not enough. Everyone must fear you, not just admire you. You will never be safe until they do. The strong never leave an enemy unbroken. Vengeance, always vengeance. And this will add to Phelan’s anguish when …
He shifted in his bed, and his ribs stabbed again. If his advisor kept talking, he did not hear it. One of his physicians came in then.