The Vacant Throne - Ed Greenwood [169]
"Aglirtans all, bear witness to this my recoronation. I, Kelgrael Snowsar, being Master of the River and Its Vale, do now require of my barons and tersepts their sworn allegiance. Let each one I name and summon approach, and lay his sword upon the lowest step, there to kneel by it and swear his loyalty to me for all to hear."
There was a moment of tight silence, and then the wraith of the Risen King said abruptly, "Adeln."
No one stood forth, and after a moment Blackgult said over his shoulder, "I slew him, Majesty."
Another moment of murmuring, swiftly hushed. Impassively the king named the next baron. "Blackgult."
Ezendor Blackgult turned and set down his sword, kneeling beside it and saying, "Lord of Aglirta, I am here."
"Do you swear upon your sword and life to obey my royal commands absolutely, faithfully, and before all other desires and compulsions?"
"Kelgrael Snowsar, I do, as Ezendor is my name and Blackgult my barony." The words were as old as Aglirta, but all but one in the room-if he was truly in the room-had only heard bards say them before.
"Will you also so serve any regent or officer who bears my writ and speaks in my name?"
"Lord of Aglirta, I will."
"Will you uphold my laws as your own, and defend, keep, and cherish Aglirta as I would?"
"Majesty, I will."
"Then I accept your loyalty and name you my Baron of Blackgult. Rise, Ezendor, and take up your sword."
The Golden Griffon bowed his head to the dais, kissed its topmost step, and took up his sword, rising and returning smoothly to his former stance.
"Brightpennant," the king said next. There was a moment of silence, and then the royal lips said calmly, "Glarsimber Belklarravus of Sart but of Sart no more, stand forth!"
Blinking with astonishment, the Smiling Wolf of Sart rose from his seat on the second row of benches, clearing his throat nervously.
"Will you be my Baron of Brightpennant?"
"I-uh-ahem, Majesty, I will," the Wolf of Sart stammered, not quite knowing how it was that he'd been even noticed at Flowfoam.
"Then stand forth here to the steps, and bring your sword!"
There was a murmur of mirth at those words, a ripple that held a note of excitement. New men would be named here today! And so it was, as the Risen King summoned all of the barons to him, one by one, reserving some now-empty titles and naming tersepts to others. No baron refused to swear, or offered violence or disrespect… but then, many silences stood to show them the fates of those who had. Two bewildered tersepts rose as the new Barons of Phelinndar and Tarlagar, amid much murmuring and muttering from the assembled, before Snowsar began the long list of tersepts.
One barony was not named, as the hours passed: Silvertree. But all men there knew that Silvertree had claimed Flowfoam Isle, and ruled from this very castle… and all men there had feared and hated Faerod Silvertree. Wherefore it came as a surprise, when the last tersept returned to his seat, for the king to say firmly, "Silvertree."
Silence fell. No one moved or spoke. The king cast his gaze down the aisle, but no one came forward for Silvertree.
Kelgrael Snowsar shifted on his throne and murmured, "Lady Embra, to me."
A large but gentle hand nudged Embra Silvertree's armored hip, where the Band of Four stood together in the shadows at the back of the hall, and its owner growled, "Go, lass."
She gave Hawkril a look, bit her lip for a moment, and then, reluctantly, the Lady of Jewels-clad in armor, and with a long, slender sword at her hip-slipped out from among the doorguards, strode silently down the aisle as heads turned to stare all over the room, knelt, and laid her sword at the feet of the Risen King.
"Rise, Embra Silvertree," the king said, "and approach the throne."
Hesitantly the slender sorceress did so. When she stood near the flickering figure, Kelgrael Snowsar turned his face up to her and asked, "If