Darkhand, p.23
Darkhand, page 23
part #7 of Alpha World Series
Jaw tight, the High Priest nodded. “I see.” The High Priest turned his head to the King, “Your Majesty?”
“Sir Gilden, we shall forgive this first outburst, as you are likely still dealing with the turmoil of your father’s passing. Do not have another or we shall put off the recognition that is to come later during this Convocation.”
Bowing his head as his lips twisted into a grimace, Skippy replied, “I shall endeavor to mind my station, Your Majesty.”
“Now, as we were saying. Alburet Darkhand, step forward so all may see you,” King Tyr intoned. Once Alburet moved to the middle of the floor, Tyr continued, “Alburet Darkhand is a Two-souled who has recently become a Demon Lord.” More mutterings started up amongst the crowd and the nobles. Tyr continued to speak, ignoring them, “The Dark Lord has offered an olive branch to his brother Justice. That branch is Alburet, who has been named Ambassador to our court by the Dark Lord and confirmed, here and now.”
Tyr had to pause as the noise level rose. A handful of nobles stood, looking disgusted. Nodding to the High Priest, who slammed his staff to restore order, Tyr picked a noble to speak. “Lord Calnon, you object?”
“Your Majesty,” Lord Calnon spoke up once he was addressed, “how can we so easily accept something that we have been taught to hate all our lives? I think this appointment might be hasty. Many of us have no knowledge of this Alburet. How can we verify that he is indeed trustworthy enough to be within reach of your august self?”
“That question shall be answered later in the Convocation,” Tyr replied. “If you still object after you have heard more, then we shall bring you forward again.”
Clearly unhappy, Lord Calnon took his seat. Another noble did as well, but that still left a couple standing. Tyr turned his attention to the next noble, an older woman. “Lady Henoc, what objection do you have?”
Voice firm, though creased with age, Lady Henoc spoke with her head held high, “Majesty, need I remind the court that my great-grandfather was killed by one of these... things? This is an affront to his memory.”
Tyr stared at the old woman for a long moment before he replied. “Lady Henoc, your great-grandfather was killed in the Dead Lands. There is no guarantee that an Infernal killed him, as the sands are rife with Undead as well as other creatures.”
“There is no guarantee that it wasn’t an Infernal, either,” Lady Henoc snapped. “We have been taught that Infernals and Undead should be hated and distrusted. The Priests of Justice used to teach this, even if the current stance of the church seems to have lapsed.”
“Would you rather have war without end?” Tyr asked pointedly. “This is the first step the brother Gods have taken to be civil with each other in generations. Or do you assume to know better than Justice what Justice should espouse?” The last question was asked pointedly by the King.
Lady Henoc faltered under the weight of that question, and she was given a reprieve by the High Priest at the King’s side. “Lady Henoc, there is more to know about what Justice has decreed for today. We have joyous news for those of faith as well. Please give us time for the Convocation to show more.”
Lady Henoc bowed her head to the High Priest. “I have faith in Justice. I shall wait for his wisdom to be shared with us.”
When she sat, the other nobles standing followed suit, and Tyr looked around to make sure no one else wished to object. Alburet locked eyes with Skippy, who was glaring at him, obviously wanting to object again but not wishing to anger the court.
“Ambassador Alburet Darkhand, we accept your appointment from the Dark Lord. You will be afforded all rights due an Ambassador,” Tyr finally said. “Is there any business that the Dark Lord wishes us to hear from him today?”
“I was given minimal instructions from the Dark Lord, Your Majesty. I do know it is his wish that old hatreds be set aside. While I may be the Ambassador for the Dark Lord, I still consider myself a loyal citizen of Stormguard.”
Tyr’s lips creased up, but the smile never formed. “Thank you, Ambassador. All pains take time to heal, but we hope we are finally on the right road.” Alburet bowed to the King before retreating to his seat. As soon as Alburet had cleared the floor, Tyr spoke up again, “Lord Gerald Two-souled, step forward and be recognized by the Crown.”
Gerald strode up with sure steps and went to a knee before the King. “Your Majesty, how might I serve you today?”
Tyr’s lips did become a smile for a brief instant before flattening back to neutrality. “Lord Gerald, you have been named Duke of Progress. We find that this doesn’t do you all the honor that you should have. As of today, you are to be known as Lord Gerald Stoutheart, in recognition to the service you have done for us.”
Over a dozen nobles stood at those words, and Tyr’s eyes went from face to face for a long moment. Over half of them sat back down after being under the King’s gaze. “It seems a number of you object,” Tyr commented, nodding to one of the nobles. “Sir Carradine? Where is Lord Carradine? Should he not be in attendance?”
The noble singled out shifted uneasily before speaking up, “Majesty, Lord Carradine has died. I was hoping to address the issue later during the Convocation. That isn’t why I’m standing though, Your Majesty. I object to a Two-souled being given the same rank as the rest of us.”
Tyr’s lips became a thin smile. “We wouldn’t say he has the same rank as you, but we will hear your reasoning.”
Sir Carradine looked even more nervous, but pressed on. “It is said that the Two-souled could leave and never return at any time. How can any House be expected to deal with Lord Stoutheart if we don’t know if he will be here from one day to the next?”
“Lord Stoutheart is one of the special Two-souled, which we are sure you are aware of, Sir Carradine. He has been here, not going back to his other world for over a month now, and will continue to be here for months more. We do understand your fears however, so we will address this.” Returning his gaze to Gerald, Tyr’s voice became a bit kinder. “Lord Stoutheart, we decree that you must assign an heir to your House. We will give you three months to do so. They will stand in your stead whenever you are unable to be here on Alpha World.”
“I will see to it, Your Majesty,” Gerald replied humbly.
“That should solve your objection, Sir Carradine,” Tyr replied. The objecting nobles all sat back down, except one. “Lord Fendrik, what objection do you have?”
“I wish to know what services Lord Stoutheart has done for the Crown to deserve such recognition?”
“It will be explained in due course,” Tyr said, to which Lord Fendrik bowed and sat. “Seeing no other objections, you may rise, Lord Stoutheart, first of House Stoutheart.”
Gerald got to his feet slowly before bowing low. “I shall endeavor to uphold the honor bestowed upon me.”
“We have no doubts you will,” Tyr replied as Gerald went back to his seat. Once the floor was clear again, Tyr looked to the side. “We call Benedict Lightfist, Champion of Justice, to the floor.”
A major stir went through the nobles and crowd as the Paladin in full armor came forward from his station near the guards. People all around got to their feet to get a better look as the confident Paladin came to a halt just short of the dais.
Benedict bowed formally to the King. “Your Majesty, you called for me?”
“We have not had a Champion of Justice since the fall of Peace,” Tyr said. “It is a pleasure to see a Champion rise again.”
“I live to serve Justice and the Crown, Your Majesty,” Benedict said.
“For those who fear a Demon Lord in the halls, know there is no reason to fear, for Justice’s Champion is here as well,” Tyr said, looking over the nobles. “We have assurances from Justice himself that if the Dark Lord is less than honest about the peace he seeks, then the Fist of Light shall strike down any Infernal who causes issue.”
A loud cheer went through the stands at Tyr’s announcement. Giving them time to bask in the moment, Tyr waited for the crowd to calm down. Once the noise started to die down, he continued, “We have had the long-empty estate of the Champion tended to, and Lord Benedict Lightfist shall be taking up residence there.” Pausing another moment, Tyr sprang the rest of the announcement on them. “Lord Lightfist is also a Two-souled, like Lord Darkhand and Lord Stoutheart.”
A momentary silence fell over the room as people processed that. “I am like my fellow Two-souled here,” Benedict said into that silence. “I shall be here for months before I must return, however briefly, to my other world. I, along with a majority of my guild, are much like the Delvers and Alpha Company, what we call lifers. We will do our best to be here as often as we can, for we see this world as the better of the two.”
Mutterings went through the nobles at Benedict’s words, and they began to take their seats again. After a few moments, Tyr looked around to find no nobles standing. “As we have no objections to this news, we thank Lord Lightfist for taking up the mantle of Champion of Justice.”
“The honor is mine,” Benedict said, bowing again before going to stand beside the High Priest of Justice.
“Our next bit of business is sad but also necessary,” Tyr said formally. “Lady Carter, please come forward to be recognized by the Crown.”
Lady Catharine Carter came forward and took her place on the floor, curtsying to the King. “Majesty.”
“As you all know Lord Reginald Carter died over a week ago, leaving the House to Sir Cody Carter. We transferred Lordship to Cody Carter in absentia as he was out of the capital. For those wondering why Lord Cody Carter isn’t here, it is with deep sadness that we tell you of his passing. His testament names Lady Carter as heir of the House. Lady Carter, your brother did something your family had long failed to do, and though it cost him his life, he died nobly. You should be proud of him.”
“I am, Your Majesty, though I would gladly refuse this honor to have him back,” Catharine said sadly. “I look forward to the other Houses learning of his final moments.”
“We will be attending to that after the next bit of business,” Tyr replied. “Raise your head Lady Carter, and know that the Crown smiles upon your House.”
A stir went through the crowd at the King’s words, but Catharine ignored them. “My humblest thanks, Sire.” Catharine quickly left the floor, dabbing the tears from her face.
“We have one more person to call forth before attending to the main reason this Convocation has been gathered,” Tyr said. “Lord Gilden, come forward.”
Skippy walked from his place among the gathered nobles as if he were the King’s equal. Coming to a stop in the middle of the floor, Skippy bowed to the King, but a touch more shallowly than he should have as a Minor House. “You called for me, Majesty?”
Tyr frowned at him. “Lord Gilden, due to the death of your father, Gustuv Gilden, you are next to be named Lord Gilden. There was question surrounding the matter, as Lord Gilden changed his mind several times about who his heir should be. A number of different records were drawn up at his behest over the years, most naming other individuals.”
Skippy went stiff at the King’s words. “Your Majesty, there is no other relative who can take up the mantle.”
“There is your brother, Lord Wilbur Theron, formerly Sir Wilbur Gilden,” Tyr said evenly.
“He was stricken from the House after his defection to House Theron,” Skippy said stiffly.
“We have reviewed the records, and after much deliberation, I and the High Priests did come to the conclusion that you are indeed the heir of your father’s title.”
Skippy seemed to relax fractionally. “I will endeavor to make sure that the House records are kept in better order, Sire.”
“The Crown recognizes Lord Skippy Gilden as the new head of House Gilden,” Tyr said formally.
A large number of the nobles got to their feet and applauded the announcement, the foremost of them being with House Carradine. Sir Carradine even walked onto the floor to shake hands with Skippy. The King raised a single eyebrow, before nodding to the High Priest to restore order.
“Sir Carradine, since you are on the floor, stay there. Lord Gilden, you are dismissed from the floor,” Tyr said, his eyes going between the two nobles. “We shall hear from House Carradine regarding why Lord Carradine is not present.”
Chapter Twenty-nine
“Sire, it is with a heavy heart that I must announce that Lord William Carradine has died the Final Death,” Sir Carradine told the court. “We are unsure as to the details, as he was on an expedition at the time.”
“We are aware,” Tyr said with a wintery edge to his voice. “What information do you have about his expedition and his hopes for such?”
Sir Carradine looked decidedly uneasy at the King’s question. “We only know that he took a number of his guards and his faithful servant, Jeeves, with him.”
“You are telling us that the head of your House left with only a handful of his guards and his faithful butler, and did not tell anyone else where he was going?” Tyr asked almost idly.
“That is correct, Sire,” Sir Carradine said. “Lord Carradine had done similar in the past, so we didn’t think anything strange about it.”
“We find it interesting he didn’t even tell you, as you are his heir,” Tyr emphasized the last word.
“I’ve been in the city ever since my father left, Your Majesty. I’ve attended a number of parties over the last few weeks,” Carradine said in an affronted tone.
“You misunderstand us,” Try replied, his lips becoming a grim smile. “We are not accusing you of manufacturing Lord Carradine’s death.”
“Thank you, Sire,” Carradine said. “The phrasing made—”
“We know how Lord Carradine died,” Tyr went on, cutting Sir Carradine off. All eyes were focused on the King and noble and a hush fell over the room as everyone waited for what was next. “We have first-hand proof of his death.” The King held out a hand and the High Priest of Peace set a ring into it. “We have here his signet ring. It was one of two rings delivered to us by the same people. We have already returned the other to the House it belongs to.”
Sir Carradine stared at the ring like it was a snake. “I see, Sire.”
“You are his appointed heir, Lord Peter Carradine, and as such, this ring now belongs to you,” Tyr intoned formally. “Will you come forward to claim your House, knowing that we will be discussing in detail what your House was involved with in a moment?”
Stiffly, Peter walked to the steps and took the ring offered to him, slipping it onto his finger. “Sire, it is with a heavy heart I take over House Carradine.”
“The death of Lord William Carradine would have been a grievous blow to the court, if not for what we know,” Tyr said. “Take your seat Lord Carradine. We shall be hearing from Sir Ioaniss Jones next.” Dismissing the new Lord, the King looked at the assembled nobles and then the full stands. “What is about to be said comes from my most trusted advisor, as well as close allies who have time and again helped us. Everything they have to say has been verified by Peace herself, through her High Priest.” The High Priest of Peace bowed his head at the acknowledgement. “Sir Jones, come forward and tell us what you have been doing for the last few weeks.”
Ioaniss came out from behind the throne, striding to the middle of the room in his finery. The whisper, “Junior always tells the best tales,” was followed by snickers from the Major House seating area.
Hastily stifled giggles came from the crowd as the whisper carried due to the acoustics of the room. A brief grimace crossed Ioaniss’ face at his father’s words, but he smoothed his expression and took the middle of the floor, bowing to the King. “Sire, as you have requested, I bring the tale of Peace with me.”
Tyr looked at the room again, “No one is to interrupt, or they will be ejected from the chamber and held until such time that it pleases me to deal with them.” The crowd went still and silent, not having heard such a warning in many years. “Begin, Sir Jones.”
“A little over two weeks ago, Alpha Company brought to me a missive they found while out hunting,” Jones began. “As they have come up with other oddities in the past, I agreed to meet with them to learn what they thought had meaning for the Crown.”
Jones told the tale of their trip to Peace, going into considerable detail. Vladimir sat more stiffly as the tale progressed. Surprise flickered across his face when Ioaniss tweaked the story so that Vladimir’s relation to the Dragon Eater wasn’t brought up, only mentioning that Vladimir knew the old ally of Stein was under the city and needed to be dealt with.
People shifted uneasily as word of how the group had been helped along by the Infernals was mentioned, with Ioaniss pointing out that Alburet hadn’t been a Demon Lord at the time. He told of encountering Jeeves in the inn full of the cultists of Stein. The new Lord Carradine looked steadily more ill as the story went on.
