The Black Prism(37)

The man he’d once been wouldn’t have hesitated.

What would you do, brother?

It had been so long, Gavin wasn’t even sure anymore.

“I am the High Lord Prism Gavin Guile,” Gavin said, bowing slightly, putting one hand behind his back and trying to wave off Karris.

“So, Lord Prism,” Satrap Garadul said loudly, “is this how the Chromeria declares war?”

“Strange that your thoughts should so quickly go to war, Satrap.”

“Strange? No, it’s strange you should call me a satrap. You expelled the rightful satrap, my father, from Garriston, stole that city, our capital and only port, and have denied Tyrea’s people access to the Chromeria. Tyrea is a satrapy no more, and hasn’t been since your war, Prism. I am King Rask Garadul of Tyrea. You have murdered my personal guards. And you call it strange that war should occur to us?” Rask’s voice rose. “Perhaps you think Tyreans are bred to be slaughtered by the Chromeria’s lackeys?”

There was a rumble among the Mirrormen that told Gavin this kind of talk was nothing new.

“But surely the Chromeria wouldn’t send the Prism himself just to kill a few of my men.” Rask pretended to be thinking, but didn’t wait long enough for Gavin to get a word in. “No. The Prism would only come if there was something much more important to accomplish. Something that would ensure the Chromeria’s stranglehold on the Seven Satrapies continued. Tell me, Lord Prism, have you come to assassinate me?”

One doesn’t send a lion to kill a rat.

So help him, Gavin almost said it out loud.

There was a rattle of armor and stomping of hooves as the Mirrormen and drafters pressed in closer to Rask Garadul. Gavin only heard it; he was looking down the hill. He’d avoided looking until now to avoid drawing attention to Karris. By now, she’d probably decided whether she was going to stay or go.

She was almost gone, already starting down the swift-flowing river on a little punt. If Gavin knew Karris, though, she would stop and try to see what happened to him. After all, she was a Blackguard, and though their first responsibility was always to the White, his protection came in a close second. He wondered if she’d left because she trusted him, because she thought he could fend for himself, or because she had her own mission to accomplish and nothing could be allowed to interfere with that.

The stout boy, on the other hand, was now almost directly behind Gavin. After Gavin had saved him once from Mirrormen, apparently he thought Gavin was his best hope to survive.

“You misunderstand me, King Garadul,” Gavin said, turning once more, committed, letting the title stand. “I saw these men slaughtering the innocent citizens of your satrapy. I intervened to save your people. I believed I was doing you a favor.”

“Doing me a favor by murdering soldiers in my uniform?”

“Renegades, surely. Bandits. What sort of madman would burn his own town to the ground?”

Many of the Mirrormen looked away or down and threw furtive glances at King Garadul. Clearly, not all of them had been happy to murder their countrymen. The king flushed. “I am king,” he declared. “I will not have my choices questioned. Especially not by the Chromeria. Tyrea is a sovereign nation. Our internal conflicts are no business of yours.” The soldiers went back to being stony-faced.

“Of course not. It’s simply… novel to find a king burning his own town and people. Murdering children. You can understand my confusion, I’m sure. My apologies for this misunderstanding. The Chromeria serves the Seven Satrapies. Tyrea included.”

It was, perhaps, as well played as Gavin could manage. If they’d been standing before fifty nobles versed in the interplay of nations and respectful of diplomacy, it might have been enough. Rask Garadul would demand some monetary consideration, allowing it had been an honest and understandable error and preserving his own right to have been outraged, and Gavin would be understood to have won. Elegant and clean.

But Rask Garadul was a young man and a new king. He was not standing in front of nobles, but in front of his men. He saw that he was losing, but with the bloody corpses piled on every side and his men looking askance at him, he didn’t think he could afford to lose. “Surely you haven’t come hundreds of leagues simply to patrol our kingdom for bandits? And unannounced, no less. One would think you’d snuck into our kingdom under cover of darkness, like some sort of spy.”

Ah, not stupid either. When on a losing path, take a new one, quick. Gavin glanced once more at the boy, to see how he was holding up. Not well. He was practically quivering with terror. He had eyes only for Rask Garadul. Or was that rage?