The Vacant Throne - Ed Greenwood [12]
He stepped forward perhaps half a dozen paces more and took a broad-legged stance, crossing his arms over his chest. It was not the pose of a supplicant, or a loyal subject, or a man who felt fear.
"You label me brigand, Snowsar," he said abruptly, "and call me hence. I come not to kneel, but to see what manner of man dares style himself 'king,' and claim to be the Sleeper of Legend come to life. I look, and see a man alone…" His voice rose to let that last word ring around the chamber, before he added in a lower growl, "And am not impressed."
"I do not require your awe," the Risen King said calmly, "but I do command your obedience. No tersept holds office save by leave of the king; you have no authority but what I lend you."
"Ah, but I do," the Tersept of Rithrym replied, with a mirthless smile, and spread his gauntleted hands. "My swords are my authority, and they are all the authority I need. Something that every Aglirtan understands, and none dare dispute. More trustworthy than wizards, and stronger and less open to dispute than any claim to be 'royal,' or do anything 'rightful.' Look, O man who claims to be king. See the men who stand with me?"
He peered past the throne, smiling more easily now, and said, "I mark but children standing with you now, and two spearmen cowering in the rearward corners. Those two added to what I passed coming up from the river I mark at a dozen armsmen in all. Not a mage of note to be seen, either-certainly none to match the Sirl wizards I've hired to fend off baronial mages in the months to come… more than you've thought to do. All in all, Flowfoam has managed a regrettably meagre muster against my much larger force. To put it bluntly, Risen King, you can choose to surrender your crown, here and now-or die."
He waved one hand lazily. At this signal a cortahar near the south wall casually slashed out with his warblade, cutting open the throat of the nearest courtier. Blood fountained and the man staggered a few steps, gurgling, before sprawling to the tiles to choke on the last of his own blood.
Screams went up from all sides of the throne room, and suddenly the room was alive with frightened courtiers, bolting in all directions like panicked rabbits.
"Stop!" the tersept bellowed, his voice sudden ringing thunder in the high-vaulted room. "Stop, all of you-or die!"
Sudden stillness fell, and in its hush Augrath Naerimdon gave King Snowsar a smug and brittle smile, and made another signal with his fingers.
Two warriors with cocked and loaded crossbows glided forward out of the press of warriors to flank the tersept, menacing the king with their weapons. Augrath of Rithrym's mocking smile widened.
The King of Aglirta answered it with a wintry smile of his own, and barely lifted the scepter in his hand.
As its aged metal burst into a brief blaze of winking lights, there was a grating sound-and a floor-tile gave way, plunging one bowman down into nothingness with a startled yell.
There were rumblings-and the cries and scramblings of the pages-as the two carved stone knights kneeling on either side of the River Throne rose stiffly into the air. Stone groaned like a living thing as they straightened up, shuddered, and then lumbered forward, shaking the tiles with their tread.
Into the din of startled curses from the warriors of Rithrym broke screams and shouts from outside the hall, cries from their fellow cortahars and the courtiers who hadn't dared to enter the chamber, that heralded the awakening of other stone knights, here and there in the passages.
King Kelgrael Snowsar kept his eyes on those of the tersept, and saw the man's face go slowly white. The crossbowman