The Shadow Throne (22 page)

So Mott was safe, then. I had been desperate for news about him.

Vargan laughed again. “Or will you save yourself? Surely no one is more valuable to Carthya than its king. A very large crowd is already gathering in front of Farthenwood. Let them watch us come out together and announce a grand bargain for all our lands. Choose yourself to survive, and I’ll allow you to serve me.”

“Are those my only options?” I asked.

“Did you have another one in mind?”

“Two nooses. I’m looking at your neck, and Conner’s.”

His eyes darkened. “Choose now, or I will order them to string up a third rope.”

“Let me die,” Tobias said. “I did what I could for your wounded. Carthya doesn’t need me any longer.”

“We both know someone who needs you very much,” I said. “You must live today.”

“Then choose me to die,” Roden said. “I’m honored to stand at your side, even at the gallows. Besides, there is nobody for me.”

Except there was. A father who needed him.

“We’ll both go,” Tobias said. “Not you.” Beside him, Roden nodded.

I appreciated their loyalty, but I still made a face. “Don’t be ridiculous. The failure of this war lies solely with me.” The weight of my attention shifted to Vargan. “This is my offer. I’ll let you hang me twice. I won’t even put up a fuss the second time.”

Conner smirked back at me. “If you won’t choose, then let’s run the third rope.”

“No.” I cast my eyes downward, unwilling to look at either of my friends. “Take Tobias away from here. Roden and I will go to the gallows.”

“No!” Tobias cried. “Save yourself, Jaron. Please!”

“Get him out of here,” I said.

“Escort him to the crowd in front of Farthenwood,” Vargan ordered. “Make sure he has a good view of his friends.”

Tobias tried to remain in the room, and put up a better fight than I’d have expected. Once he was gone, I turned to Roden. “Forgive me.”

“You made the right choice,” Roden whispered. “Though you did choose his name rather quickly.”

“He has a skinny neck. He’d have died faster.”

“That’s why you chose me? Because it’ll take me longer to die?”

“Yes, Roden, that’s exactly why.”

“Enough bickering!” Vargan grabbed a quill from Conner, then shoved it at me. “Sign these papers, Jaron. With your signature, Conner becomes king and Carthya becomes mine. Sign them or else you’ll —”

“No threats are necessary.” I stood and dipped the quill in the ink. “I gave myself up to do this very thing.” As I was writing, Roden, still kneeling in the back of the room, gasped. I knew he expected better from me, and certainly not my surrender. But I was doing the only thing I could, whether he understood that or not.

When I’d finished, I threw the quill against the back wall and told Vargan to get this next part over with. Conner inspected the document while Vargan called for my hands to be tied again. Conner asked for the honor of doing the task.

I held my hands out in front of me, but Conner ordered them at my back and wound the rope tightly against my wrists. With the sores already cut into the flesh, the rough cordage was far more painful than the chains had ever been. I suspected Conner must have known that, and likely took pleasure in it. Once we entered the great hall, I began working to untie the ropes, but Conner put one hand over the knots, preventing me from any movement there.

We stood at the doors of Farthenwood as an announcement was made that we were coming out. While we waited, Vargan leaned over to me and said, “Who did you think you were, to stand up to someone like me?”

I remained facing forward while I said, “I am Jaron, the Ascendant King of Carthya. You will regret ever bringing war against me.”

And the doors opened.

I
t was an unusually beautiful morning, warm and bright, with sapphire skies that were better suited to a picnic than a hanging. A light breeze stirred the two nooses hanging from the gallows in circles. The beams weren’t tall, the kind that would snap a neck as soon as the floor collapsed, causing instant, relatively painless death. These were the shorter ones with a knot at the center of the neck. They’d cut off our air once the stools beneath our feet were kicked away, creating a slow and terrible death. That had been a deliberate choice, I suspected. They wanted me to suffer, and for everyone in the audience to have a long time to understand the consequences of defying King Vargan.

For there was indeed a large crowd gathered, many more than I had anticipated. Most of the audience was the soldiers of Avenia and Mendenwal. Tobias was now standing with my other regents near the front. Like those around him, his face registered dread for what was about to happen. But something more seemed etched into his expression — perhaps the conflicted feelings of guilt and relief that I had chosen him to escape the noose. I wished he wouldn’t torture himself with that. The choice had been mine, and I’d made the correct one. If he would’ve looked directly at me, I’d have tried to communicate that to him, but his eyes were cast downward, ashamed.

The other regents were looking at me, and I gave them a respectful nod for having come. I suspected that immediately after our deaths, they’d be taken to Vargan and forced to give oaths of fealty to him and Conner. Kerwyn was missing from the group. Either he was still in Mendenwal, or else he had escaped Vargan’s demands that he be in attendance. Standing beside Tobias was Harlowe. His eyes were filled with horror as he stared at me. Considering who walked beside me, it was wrong that he should care so much about my death.

I lowered my head and said to Roden, “There’s something I should have told you last night.”

Roden’s voice wavered when he spoke. “Yes?”

“You have a father, Roden. He’s alive, and he is here.”

“What?” Roden jerked his whole body toward me. “Who?”

I cocked my head toward the center of the crowd. “Rulon Harlowe, the prime regent.”

“How could you know that?”

“His wife was named Havanila. Harlowe is your father.”

“But —” Roden paused and considered that a moment. “He lost a younger son as an infant. Didn’t I hear that?”

“It was you. I’m sorry. I should’ve told you last night.”

“Do you think so?” He cursed and craned his neck to look in the crowd. I knew by the slump in his shoulders when he located Harlowe. Then his tone softened. “Does he know?”

“No. I thought you should tell him.”

“I wish I could.” We took a few more steps, then he said, “I know you tried to save us, Jaron. I forgive you for failing.”

With a coy smile, I glanced over at him. “What failure? Everything is exactly as it should be.”

“I disagree,” Roden said. “I can think of a thousand ways I’d rather spend my morning.”

“Think of ways you’d like to spend your evening, then.” With a smile, I added, “I intend to curl up in front of a warm fireplace, with Imogen beside me.”

“That sounds nice. But if you’re near any fires tonight, it might be that your soul landed in the devils’ lair.”

I chuckled. “That’s more likely than either of us resting with the saints. But if we do, just imagine the trouble we could cause there.”

He smiled back. “Good-bye, Jaron.”

“No, Roden. Not yet.”

At that, the commander pulled Roden onto the platform and directed him to stand on the stool. From my position, I could see the shaking of Roden’s hands, so fierce it rattled the chains on his wrists. A man standing at the front of the platform announced that here was the captain of the Carthyan guard, guilty of war against Avenia, Gelyn, and Mendenwal. Roden stood tall as the noose was tightened around his neck. He was heaving deep breaths, as if that might somehow delay the suffocation.

Conner had left my side and turned his back on me to greet other dignitaries seated on the steps of Farthenwood. It allowed me to work at the ropes around my wrists, while the position of his body also blocked others from seeing what I was doing. I wasn’t quite sure what I’d do once my hands were untied — I was still unarmed and surrounded by enemies. But it was a start.

Shortly before I was through the knots, Conner turned and grabbed my wrists again. Without calling attention to himself, he wound the loose rope back over my wrists. I couldn’t tell whether he knotted anything again, but if he did, any hope I had was lost.

It was my turn now for the noose. Conner escorted me to the platform and told me to get on the stool, which I did. Then he pulled the noose around my neck and tightened it a little, though it would surely pull tighter to kill me. The coarse threads scratched like claws against my skin and I was already feeling the pinch for air.

From here, I could see the audience better. I recognized a few of the thieves amongst the Avenian soldiers. They were nearly expressionless as they stared up at me; it was impossible for me to tell whether they were regretting or celebrating my death. Probably the latter. And oddly, I saw Erick in the audience. Only Erick, none of the pirates. He acknowledged me with a grim smile and a slight nod. I returned the gesture, grateful beyond words that he had come.

“King Vargan will have you speak now,” Conner said. “Remind our people of where their loyalties must be.”

My eyes shifted from him back to the crowd. When those from Carthya saw me looking, they went to their knees. So did Erick, and a few others I didn’t know. I swallowed hard to gain control of my emotions, and then said, “I am commanded by the king of Avenia to give you one last order and so I shall. Hear me now and always. Be loyal to the thing you know is right. Never bend to weakness, never yield to a false crown. Right will always triumph in the end, and you will want to be on that side when it does.”

The ending I had intended would’ve been even better, if Conner had not cut me off by crashing his fist into my gut. A gasp spread through the audience, who went to their feet in my defense. Kippenger shouted to the crowd to ignore my last words or be hanged next. His soldiers left the platform and quieted a few of the more rowdy objectors with the hilt of their blades.

I had recovered from the punch, but my balance was threatened. I might’ve fallen then, but Conner put his hands on my arms to steady my weight. When he did, I felt something cold run up my sleeve and caught the end of it in my hand.

Conner had given me a knife.

It was small, but felt sharp enough, and I gripped it tightly to keep it hidden. He said nothing more, didn’t even look at me as he left the platform.

The announcer on the platform said my name, gave my title as the king of Carthya, and then accused me of the crime of waging war against the kingdoms of Avenia, Mendenwal, and Gelyn. Ridiculous charges, considering they were standing on my land.

When he finished, he walked off the platform too. King Vargan stood and spoke the simple words, “Do it.”

And the two executioners kicked out the stools from beneath us.

I
jumped forward in the instant Vargan gave the order. It only gave me a little traction, but it was enough to keep me suspended in air for a precious second or two. I tore my hands free from the ropes and grabbed the noose to give myself some air. Vargan called out that I had a knife, but when I swung back, I kicked one executioner into the other and both toppled over the edge of the platform. Other soldiers were rushing forward though. I had to be fast.

I used my weight to swing toward Roden, who was quickly losing consciousness. I grabbed on to his rope and with the knife sliced through the cords. Roden fell to the platform, and listlessly rolled over the edge to the ground below. Harlowe and Tobias rushed forward to help him.

With one hand still holding the dangling portion of Roden’s rope, I sliced through my own noose with my free hand, then jumped to the ground beside Roden. Harlowe had already loosened Roden’s rope and Tobias was feeling for his pulse.

“Keep him alive.” For Roden’s protection, I pressed the knife into Harlowe’s hands. “His life means everything to you.”

The soldiers who had been slowed by the crowd were now advancing on me, but I ran the other way, beneath the gallows and back up Farthenwood’s steps. I cupped my hands around my mouth and yelled, “Erick, call your men!”

Erick withdrew a horn from his side and blew on it, and the result was so instantaneous from within Farthenwood that the bulk of the pirates must have already left their place in the secret passages to wait for the signal. Back when we were alone in his office, Conner had confirmed that they were there — the many secrets I had crowded within his walls.

I’d never been sure exactly how this would come to be the final battle of the war. But I had always known this was where it must happen, and that it could not succeed without the pirates. I was certain it had been no small job to persuade them to fulfill their oaths. My gratitude to Erick was deeper than he could ever understand.

When Mott and I had visited the pirates, I had asked Erick to come here regardless of whether he was successful in bringing his men. But they were here, and they had clearly found the secret passages, as I had requested, though I couldn’t imagine how long they’d had to hide in there, all the while completely silent. I hoped their anger for the endless wait would be exhausted on Vargan’s armies.

At the sound of fighting, the bottoms of my wagons of gold collapsed — another use of the false floors designed by Tobias. Out poured one of my lieutenants, along with hundreds of weapons, enough for most of my soldiers who had been compelled to come here unarmed. Dozens more poured from the woods for a fight. It wasn’t as many as I would have wanted, but Vargan had been a fool to believe every soldier I had was gathered in the audience. They stampeded from the woods outside Conner’s estate, each heavily armed and ready to battle.

That was all wonderful to see, but in the present moment, it wasn’t wise of me to stand and watch for long. Several Avenian soldiers chased me up Farthenwood’s stairs, including Commander Kippenger, who was spending far more energy than he should have hurling threats my way. Once I reached the top, I leapt over the bronze railing to the ground. My landing on the grass below wasn’t particularly graceful, but I thought my clumsiness here could easily be overlooked based on the art of my escape from the noose.

I ran across the back lawn with the Avenians in pursuit, and, due to my youth and lack of weighty armor, was getting a fair lead on them. But I stopped when I saw Mendenwal had rounded the far side of the estate and was coming at me from ahead.

There was nowhere to go but up.

I had not made a successful climb since the night I’d climbed the pirates’ Tarblade cliffs, shortly after Roden broke my leg. I’d made many attempts since then, most which nobody else knew about, because it would’ve embarrassed me and made the castle surgeon furious. Also because they had all ended in failure.

This one could not.

I took hold of the square-cut rocks and reminded myself that while Conner had kept me here at Farthenwood, I’d made this climb several times. I might yet have a chance at winning, and I would
not
fail because of something as simple as a weakened right leg.

So I brushed my hands on my clothes to dry them, and climbed, just out of Kippenger’s reach when he leapt for me. He cursed at me and kicked against the wall, then yelled, “If you go much higher, we won’t need to hang you. Your fall should easily take care of your own death.”

I wanted to retort — so many possibilities came to my mind that it was hard not to. But the climb needed my full attention. As easily as I had scaled these walls before my injury, now my hands seemed to grip smooth glass and my legs felt as if they were made of straw.

My right leg was the worst. It trembled beneath my weight and after one small slide I knew it could not be trusted.

“I’ll be waiting here at the bottom when you fall,” Kippenger yelled.

I would
not
fall. Never again. Gritting my teeth, I replayed Mott’s voice in my mind, telling me that I was the Ascendant King. Meant to rise. And so I would.

From far below, Kippenger screamed at me, “You cannot win, Jaron! Those chains that held you in the dungeon aren’t gone. I know you can feel them. All I must do is pull at the chains and you will fall.”

By then, I had reached Conner’s balcony. I paused just a moment before rolling over the balustrade. My hand dug deep into the pocket of my pants and withdrew a single garlin. I’d had it with me since the first night Kippenger placed it high on my prison walls in that camp. He had meant for it to be a lesson, that there was no point in me trying to win. But I had taken it as a challenge. Getting it had cost every ounce of strength I had, and I fell dozens of times in the attempt before figuring out how to maneuver my chains so that I could reach it. By the next day, Kippenger had forgotten his cruel game. I had not.

Now I held up the coin for him to see. “You were wrong, Commander. Whatever chains you try to place on me, I will always,
always
rise from them. I’m not buying my freedom because you never owned it. But I am taking it back, for me and for my country.”

Then I set the coin on the edge of the balustrade and told him to reach for it, if he wished to purchase his own freedom. As I opened the door to Conner’s old bedroom, Kippenger yelled at his men to get inside. I was only barely through the door when I heard his men pounding up the stairs.

I stepped forward but my tired legs turned to lead. So I braced my weight against the wall until I was all the way inside. At one time, a tapestry had masked the secret entrance to the passages. But even though the tapestry was missing now, the construction of the secret door remained impressive. If I had not already known where it was, I wouldn’t have found it. Kippenger’s men wouldn’t find it now either.

Once the passage door clicked in place behind me, I took a single step forward and then my leg faltered, sending me to my knees. I wouldn’t get another climb out of it today, and probably couldn’t rely on it for fighting. Back in Conner’s room, I heard the Commander ask, “Where did he go?”

It was time to leave. I got back on my feet and silently limped toward the main floor. Once I reached the bottom of the hidden stairs, I realized I wasn’t alone. Imogen greeted me first, with a look that soured from loving to scolding once she noticed my limp and the dried blood from my head wound. There were others with her, and I whispered a promise not to betray them, unless they wished to reveal themselves. Then I left the passages and found myself alone in Conner’s office. The door from his great hall was open, but I decided it would draw attention to this room if I shut it. Enough fighting was happening out in the main room; it was better if no one knew I was here.

The papers I’d signed were still laid out across the desk. I picked them up with the intent to burn them, but a creak on the floorboards behind me warned of someone else in the room. I turned around and saw Vargan poised with a dagger held over his head. With my leg in its current state, I couldn’t outrun him, and no other weapons were nearby. There weren’t many options if he decided to attack, and he clearly would be attacking.

“With my pirates in this battle, you’re going to lose,” I said. “But there is still time to save yourself. Surrender to me and you will live.”

“Never.”

Clearly, this man had no talent for negotiating. To be fair, I wasn’t particularly good at it either.

“You intended for that thief to bring the message to me.” Vargan’s voice trembled with rage. “You wanted this to end at Farthenwood.”

Of course I did. I knew this place as well as my own castle, and if one of these homes had to be destroyed, it wasn’t going to be mine. At the time I arranged for the pirates to come here, there were still a few unresolved details in my mind. But I had known the pirates would be needed.

“It had to end here,” I said. “Otherwise the pirates would’ve stayed hidden in the secret passages until they rotted. They’d have ended up smelling like you, and that would’ve been a shame.”

Vargan cried out and rushed toward me. I started to duck, but he grabbed my shirt and shoved me onto the table, then pinned my legs with his weight.

He raised the dagger again, but was distracted by a loud cry. Conner was running toward us. I never saw him enter the room.

Vargan turned and with the dagger he had intended for me, slashed Conner across his chest. Everything froze in that moment, except for the fine white silks of Conner’s vest that turned a horrible color of red. He patted at the blood and then raised his hand to look at it more closely, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Once he accepted it, he lowered his hand and tumbled to the floor. By then, I had squirmed free and knelt beside Conner, who took my hand in his. With gasping words, he said, “I always was a patriot, Jaron. I never lied when I said that you are my king. Forgive me.”

He moved to kiss my fingers, but instead drew in a gurgled breath and slumped to the floor, dead.

“He was a traitor to us both,” Vargan said.

Maybe he was, but he had also just saved my life. Conner had died much as he lived, in the grayest shadow between right and wrong.

By then, I had put some distance between Vargan’s dagger and myself, but now Kippenger and several other soldiers from both Avenia and Mendenwal had heard Conner’s cry and entered the office. I rolled my eyes and sighed, more irritated than afraid. Was it too much to hope for someone on my side to enter? Even one burly, angry pirate would’ve been nice.

I turned back to Vargan. “Why did Mendenwal join you? They’ve never been our enemy.”

Vargan laughed. “When you disappeared four years ago, your father lied to all of us, a political game to keep us away from his borders. I thought it was a rather clever trick, but Mendenwal did not. So when you returned to the throne, it wasn’t hard to stir up their anger. I reminded Humfrey of that time you challenged him as a child, how dangerous you could become if we allowed you to keep your crown. Then I promised him half of Carthya as his spoils of victory.”

My eyes narrowed. “He can’t possibly believe you’ll allow that.”

Vargan shrugged. “Humfrey is far too trusting. I alone am the emperor of Carthya now. That fool king sitting on Mendenwal’s throne doesn’t realize I’m coming for him next.”

“Avenia has no power over Mendenwal,” a voice boomed. We all turned to the hidden passage door opening behind Conner’s desk. The man who emerged was advanced in his years, but his voice betrayed nothing of his age. He was King Humfrey of Mendenwal, and Lord Kerwyn stood at his side.