The Born Queen - J. Gregory Keyes [28]
The weapon darted toward him—and stopped. Stephen realized that it was the hilt end and that the one-eyed Sefry was holding the blade in his black-gloved hand.
The shock passed through him, pulling rage in its wake.
“What?” he heard himself snap. “What the sceat—” He cut himself off. “Sceat” was not a word he used. In the dialect he had grown up speaking, it wasn’t even a word. No, he’d gotten that from Aspar White, and his Oostish brogue.
He swallowed, feeling the anger already replaced by relief.
“What is this, Fend?” he asked, more controlled.
Fend’s eye glittered. “I understand we aren’t the best of friends,” he began.
Stephen coughed a mirthless laugh. “No, we’re not,” he affirmed.
“But you are Kauron’s heir, and I am the Blood Knight. It is my duty to serve you. But since your distrust for me stops you doing what you must, I see I will serve you best by letting another bear this sword and wear my armor.”
“You’re the Blood Knight because you drank the blood of the waurm,” Stephen said, “not because of those arms. And the waurm is dead.”
“The waurm’s blood is still quick in mine,” Fend said. “So drive this sword into my heart, collect my blood, and feed it to a champion you like.”
Stephen stared at the hilt of the weapon and, almost without thinking, took hold of it. He felt dizzy and odd and thought he smelled something sharp and dusty.
Killing Fend seemed like a good idea. The man was a murderer many times over. He nearly had killed Aspar, had treated Winna with great cruelty, and had had a hand in the slaughter of two young princesses.
Oddly, Stephen found himself reviewing those facts without much passion. The best reason to kill Fend was that he, Stephen, could rest easier at night. He shrugged and started to thrust.
What am I doing? he suddenly wondered, and stopped.
“Pathikh?” Fend gasped.
Stephen felt a little smile play on his lips. He’d frightened Fend. He had frightened Fend. He dropped the tip of the weapon.
“I don’t believe you,” Stephen said.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t believe you’re willing to sacrifice your life for a higher purpose. I think you expect to get something out of this or, rather, more out of it, since the waurm’s blood has already made you something more than you were. No, Fend, you have a goal, and it isn’t to die.”
“I’ve offered you my life,” Fend said.
“What happens when I stab the Blood Knight? I don’t know. I’ve seen a man that no blade can kill.”
“I’m not like that.”
Stephen lifted his hands. “You know I don’t trust you. You just said so. Do you imagine this charade has changed that?”
Fend’s eyebrows rose.
“What?”
The Sefry grinned a little. “This isn’t the Stephen Darige I met at Cal Azroth,” he said. “You’re getting some steel.”
Stephen started to retort, but Fend’s words struck home. He wasn’t afraid of the man anymore. He hadn’t actually been afraid even when he had thought Fend was about to kill him.
“This is about the faneway, then,” Stephen said.
“Exactly, pathikh.”
“I’ve walked one faneway and been nearly killed by another,” Stephen said. “I’m reluctant to travel this one until I know more about it.” But even as he said it, he suddenly felt like the old, timid Stephen again.
“What do you need to know?” Fend challenged. You are Kauron’s heir. The power of this mountain is yours. It is well past time for you to take it.”
“I haven’t found the Alq yet,” Stephen temporized. “I’ve found some interesting texts in the old section.”
“Pathikh,” Fend replied. “The Alq will show itself to you after you’ve walked the faneway and not before. Didn’t you know that?”
Stephen stared at the Sefry while he tried to absorb that.
“Why hasn’t anyone mentioned this?” he asked, glancing back at Adhrekh, his valet.
The other Sefry looked surprised, too. “We thought you knew that, pathikh,” he replied. “You’re Kauron’s heir.”
Stephen closed his eyes. “I’ve been looking for the Alq for three months.”
“That wasn’t clear to us,” Fend replied.
“What do you think I’ve spent all of my time doing?