Page 136 of Play of Shadows
Duke Monsegino, clinging to my arm to keep his balance, saw it, too. ‘Knights. . . when I gaze upon them, I see knights.’
‘That’s because theyareknights, your Grace.’ I jabbed a thumb at the clusters of noble House soldiers in their gleaming armour and bright livery. ‘And possessed of more honour and dignity than any of those who claim that title.’
‘Yes,’ Monsegino agreed, bobbing his head like a drunk. ‘Knights. We need more– dozens more. Hundreds.Thousands. A general must have his army. Bring my knights to me!’
The flash of a silver braid whipped by as Ornella spun on her heel. She strode over and backhanded the Duke of Pertine.
‘Back away, sister,’ Shariza warned her.
Ignoring the chilling threat in the Black Amaranth’s tone,Ornella said, ‘A general mustlead!’ She grabbed Monsegino’s golden breastplate. ‘Instead of moaning about your lack of an army, perhaps you could learn from your time on stage andpretendto be a leader for your people in their hour of need!’
‘Ornella, that’s not going to—’
But I was cut off by Monsegino squeezing my shoulder. His wits must have returned to him, for his expression was as sombre and despairing as the moment demanded. He swallowed, dusted himself off, then bowed to Ornella. ‘My Lady, by your command, I will.’
Firan Monsegino, Duke of Pertine, stepped to the front of the stage, in easy crossbow range of those who’d come to take his crown, and spread wide his arms. At first it looked as if he was committing suicide, awaiting the shot that would end his brief reign. But the duke knew what he was doing, for he had positioned himself at the voci forte, and when he spoke, his words were projected far and wide.
‘Nobles of Pertine!’ he roared, and even in the chaos, everyone turned to look at him. ‘Margraves and margravinas, viscounts and viscountesses, lords and daminas, hear me now, for though I might not be the ruler of your choice, still am I duke by law, by blood and, damn you all, by the will of the gods. Beneath their watching eyes, I command you thus: send forth your troops to protect the innocents trapped inside this courtyard. These machinations of power and deceit may be but a day’s amusement for you, but the lives of those we are charged to protect are as precious as yours, as vital to this city and this duchy as my own. Stand for your brethren, here and now. Assemble your troops before me, and in return. . .’
There was a moment’s hesitation in the duke’s oration, as if he were about to trade away something that he wasn’t quite sure was his to give.
‘In return, I will abdicate. To you I will render the power tochoose who sits the throne of Pertine and wears the crown I never asked for and will be well rid of.’
A tense silence followed the duke’s appeal. Shariza tried to interpose herself between him and the crowds, but then something unexpected happened: the bright pennants of the noble Houses began to cut through the crowds with smooth efficiency, the soldiers heeding the curt orders of their commanders.
‘Thosebastards,’ Beretto muttered. ‘The nobles must have planned this all along– they’ve just been waiting for Monsegino to abdicate!’
The Iron Orchids apparently shared his outrage, and although they tried to resist, their column was soon forced back, their lines cut once, twice, thrice, as contingents of armoured knights shoved them aside.
‘I can’t believe it,’ Teo said, aghast. ‘They’re actually. . . those soulless rich bastards are actually going to save us?’
Had Teo been watching the duke’s face as I was, he would have seen that this was no heroic rescue.
Barely a dozen breaths later, an embassy made up of a dozen nobles strode through the protective lines of their private armies to ascend the stairs onto the stage, claiming it as their own.
At their centre was Viscountess Kareija.
Chapter 71
The Coronation
Viscountess Kareija walked unhurriedly across the oak stage, her lustrous coral tresses bound in a simple golden circlet, a stately Pertine-blue gown elegantly fitted to her voluptuous figure sparkling beneath the stars. Richly clad nobles in House colours followed behind her like a gaudy bridal train.
‘She’sour surprise villain?’ Beretto grumbled. ‘And people tell memyscripts are predictable.’ He clapped me on the back. ‘At least we’re not going to get massacred, eh? I was never that enamoured of Monsegino anyway, and I imagine her Ladyship will prove herself an only fractionally shittier ruler.’
‘What makes you think that?’
‘She would’ve been duchess anyway, had old Meillard not decided at the last minute to alter the line of succession for her nephew. Maybe this is as just an outcome as we deserve.’
I desperately wished I could share his sanguine prediction that the madness overtaking our city would end with nothing worse than another in a long series of mundane power struggles among the noble Houses. But though Corbier’s voice was gone, the Red-Eyed Raven’s instincts were ingrained in me now.
And those instincts were telling me the real devastation was about to begin.
Duke Monsegino waved the Knights of the Curtain aside as his aunt approached. Shariza held her ground.
‘It might be hard to fit you for a proper crown,’ the Black Amaranth warned the new Duchess of Pertine in a voice devoid of hesitation or humanity, ‘without a head upon which to set one.’
‘Shariza, enough,’ Duke Monsegino said.
