DAWN OF THE PHOENIX Read online

  The healer shrugged and put his head down.

  Lyfair realized he had taken out his irritation and his own apprehension on the pitiful healer. “Just sit there and keep quiet, and try to act like you know what you’re doing. I will try and placate them as best I can and buy us a little more time if possible.”

  The royal surgeon sadly nodded his agreement.

  Through the door came three men. The first was the Lord of all Eastern Bandara, Galen Bradford. Bradford was tall and thin. He wore very light chainmail under a green woolen tunic with three rampant griffins in red. The Bradford Family was one of the older families in Bandara. The men of the family had two choices when they came of age: join the priesthood or become a knight. Galen had chosen the latter.

  The second man was one of the biggest landowners in Bandara, Lord Stuart Kaspar. His family was rich, even by the nobility’s standards; they owned vast tracts of land given to them by the crown during the reign of the Phoenix Queen. He had the largest number of serfs in the kingdom, and their farmlands fed the realm. He was short and very heavy. His face was covered by a full beard. Even though it was warm in the palace, he was dressed in ermine from head to toe.

  The third was Lord of all Northern Bandara, Tobias Fox. Fox was a short man with blondish red hair and a well-groomed beard. He wore a simple leather gambeson. He came from a long line of fighting men, but the family was not a noble one in the beginning. Near the end of the Phoenix Queen's reign, his family had been granted their nobility because of their skill at arms.

  Lyfair greeted each lord in turn.

  “My lords, let us get down to business.”

  If this had been a normal meeting of the council, Lyfair would have said a prayer before it started, but considering the circumstances, he thought it inappropriate.

  The young priest brought chairs in so everyone could sit down. “That will be all, Father Bindel.”

  The young priest nodded to Lyfair and closed the door. Three of the most powerful men in the country sat before Bishop Lyfair. They were expecting him to tell them that the king was dead and things were moving forward, instead he had to explain why the old man was still alive and Prince Cain was not about to be coronated.

  “Gentlemen, I’m glad you could come.”

  Lord Bradford cut him off, “Forget the pleasantries, Lyfair. I heard the king is still alive, and doing a little better, I might add. Perhaps you can make us understand why we are still waiting to hear of his demise?”

  They were not even using his title anymore or even, “Your Eminence.” They were addressing him like he was any other man. Why should he expect them to show any respect for his office? Regicide was not listed as a virtue in the Holy Tome.

  “Yes, I agree with Bradford,” Lord Kaspar said. “I was told this business would be over in a very short time. I was told the king had one foot in the grave and the good healer was kicking the other out from under him.” Kaspar wiped the sweat from his fat face and went on. “I have made certain promises to members of our community, and they won’t be put off much longer. I mean, really, how long does it take for an old man to die?”

  Lyfair raised his hands. “My lords, I have been assured by Lord Selmac that the king has just a matter of days to live. Sometimes people show a false improvement right before the end. I’m correct about that, aren’t I, Lord Selmac?”

  The healer bowed his head in agreement. “After King Aaron’s death and the new king is crowned, Bandara can once again prosper and we will all have what we want. I urge you all to have just a little more patience.”

  Lord Bradford scoffed. “We have been very patient and given you more than enough time to conclude your end of the arrangement; I’m beginning to lose faith in you, Lyfair.”

  Lyfair could feel his contempt for the lords rising in his chest, but he held his temper. “I assure you, my lord, that the trust that was placed in me will be validated.”

  The Lord of the East pursed his lips. “We will find that out very soon now, won’t we?” Bishop Lyfair nodded and leaned back in his chair.

  Lord Bradford began speaking about how Bandara was failing as a country and how the polices of the king were ruining the nobility, and if something wasn’t done soon it would be too late, and of course how if his lands were increased by the new king, he would show the other lords how to make the best use of their assets, and how he would put the peasantry back in its place. Bradford was well known to love the sound of his own voice.

  Lyfair had heard it all before. In fact, he had heard it over and over. They would all go on about what needed to be done and how they would do it for about an hour, and then they would return to their homes and it would be left to him to see to the details. These lords were typical of the Bandaran nobility. They wanted results without putting any effort forward themselves. Lyfair knew it was best just to let them finish without interruption, nodding at the appropriate times and feigning his agreement. That way the meeting would be over sooner. As he halfheartedly listened to the long-winded lords, he began to apprise each one. He felt it was a better use of his time.

  He found he disliked every man in the room. Bradford was a greedy pig that thought much too much of himself. He had been told Bradford had drowned his older brother when he was younger to become heir to his father’s title and lands.

  Kaspar was a gambler and a poor one by all accounts, losing huge amounts of his family’s wealth to the gambling houses of Turill. Lyfair’s spies told him that despite his noble birth, Kaspar spent a great deal of his time with the more shadowy figures of the harbor district. Many people said he would sell his mother for a handful of coppers, and it was well known that Lord Kaspar liked to take small boys to his bed, a vile man indeed.

  Then there was Lord Fox. Lyfair was not sure what to make of him. He said very little and listened a great deal. He came from a very honorable family, his older brother was once the commander of the entire Bandaran Army and a very good one by all accounts. His people had found Lord Fox to be without vices or dark secrets. He was perhaps the smartest of what would be the new king’s council, and that made him the most dangerous. Lyfair had his spies watching Lord Fox as well as the other lords' every move. He wanted no surprises from any of the overly ambitious Bandaran lords.

  As for the royal surgeon, Selmac was a simpleton at best. He would do whatever Bishop Lyfair told him to do.

  These were the men he had to work with to achieve what he wanted, what had to be. It was no wonder the kingdom was in such a state with noblemen like these, but they were also easily controlled by greed and their arrogance. That’s why they had been chosen to aid in this skullduggery.

  Lyfair let them ramble on for a while. Most of what they had to say was unimportant. Like how they were going to change the kingdom after Cain was crowned, this was what most of their discussion centered around, and what their gains would be.

  Lyfair nodded and smiled, assuring them that everything would go as planned.

  Then he saw the worthless dullards out. It was he and the Church that would come out ahead when the dust settled. Cain would bring new life to Bandara, and he could be guided to make the right decisions. With a powerful ruler and a strong kingdom behind him, Lyfair could advance his own agenda. Perhaps even gain an appointment to the Church in Asqutania. From there, who knew? He could one day even be pope.

  Bishop Lyfair was tired and it was getting late. The meeting earlier in the day with Lords of Bandara had given him a terrible headache, or was it his guilt? He had one more guest to see before he could sleep. The true architect of the macabre stratagem would want a full report and that would be more trying than the meeting he had earlier.

  It was nearing midnight when his office door swung open and a man walked in, pulling off a pair of riding gloves. Lyfair could tell who it was by the swagger in his stride, even before the man pulled the hood of his cloak back.

  “Lord Blackthorn.” Lyfair slightly bowed his head to the older man.

  William Blackthorn
may have been older than Bishop Lyfair, but you could not tell it by his looks. The lord was still trim and fit, looking like a man twenty years his junior.

  “Father Lyfair,” Blackthorn said.

  Blackthorn always addressed him as Father, never Bishop or Your Eminence, and it infuriated Bishop Lyfair, but Blackthorn had enough money and power to get away with it and the old lord was just a bully by nature. The nobleman neatly laid his cloak over a chair and put his gloves on top. He wore a grey gambeson with his family crest on it, a black gauntleted fist clutching a thorn vine.

  “I heard the king is doing well?”

  Lyfair could see that Lord Blackthorn’s spy network was on top of things. He had gotten the information before he even arrived in Turill.

  “No, my lord, that is just wishful thinking by those close to him. I assure you, the king is still very ill, and he won’t last much longer.”

  “Then why do I hear he will hold court himself day after tomorrow? It seems to me that a man that could die at any moment would not be able to hold court.”

  Lyfair could feel the sweat start to run down his body under his heavy robes. “I had not heard that, but I’m sure that Princess Raygan is somehow behind that foolish aspiration. You know how she fawns over her father.” Lyfair brought his hands up and formed a steeple with his fingers, touching them to his lips. “I’m sure the princess wants her father to stay alive as long as he can. Prince Cain is not overly fond of her excesses. She may be trying to show everyone that the king is still capable of making decisions.”

  Lyfair chuckled. “Perhaps she’s afraid Prince Cain will pull the purse strings of the kingdom closed once he’s its king.”

  Lord Blackthorn frowned as he stepped close to Lyfair and put his finger on Lyfair’s chest. “This ends now.”

  Lyfair could see that Lord Blackthorn was seething with anger and he had no idea why. What had he said?

  “There is nothing funny about this situation; I want that incompetent fool dead by the end of the week. You told me that if we just helped his illness along and let the whole thing look like a natural death, it would be easier than trying to cover up a messy death and it would be just as quick. The boy has returned and you’re out of time, Father. I don’t care if you have to put a pillow over his face yourself. I want him gone by the end of the week. I will wait no longer. You said you could handle this end of things, now handle it.”

  Lord Blackthorn walked over and poured himself a cup of wine. Lyfair could see the anger slide off the lord like a serpent. William Blackthorn was a man of many temperaments. Lyfair had watched him over the years in council meetings. He could go from furious to jubilant in the blink of an eye. Many of the council members were wary of the many moods of William Blackthorn.

  “Do you have all the others prepared to play their parts, Father?”

  Bishop Lyfair sat down in his chair. He hated talking to Blackthorn, the old lord was cunning. If the truth was known, Lyfair was more than a little afraid of what William Blackthorn was capable of. The lord’s arrogance knew no bounds, the man was an elitist in the extreme, and he was not someone Lyfair wanted as an enemy. “They are prepared, I believe, but are as impatient as you are. When the time comes, they will play their parts. Of that I have no doubt.”

  The old lord swallowed his wine and set the cup on Lyfair’s desk. “They damned well better for what they are being paid and the concessions I have made. You’re the only one with any wit, Lyfair, that’s why I’m so short with you. You know what hangs in the balance. I can’t have you getting squeamish about things now.”

  Lyfair sighed. “I know it has taken longer than expected, but I want no accusations or inquiry made after the king is dead. It will be better for all of us that way.”

  “Do what you must, Father. Kill the king, you have my word there will be no accusations. The new king will be crowned and this kingdom will once again know greatness,” Blackthorn said.

  “Your son has secured his appointment then?”

  “When Cain takes the throne, he will give Talorn command of the armies of Bandara. And now that I have given him my seat on the council and named him my successor at Braxton Bluff, he will be a very powerful man in Bandara.”

  “You’re sure of this? Have you spoken to Talorn?” Lyfair asked.

  Blackthorn smiled. “I have not spoken with Talorn as of yet, but I have it on very good authority that Cain will give him whatever he asks for. What choice does the prince have, anyway? Without our help, he is finished.”

  Lyfair shifted in his seat. “Are you at all concerned about your son? With that much power in such a young man’s hands, won’t that make him very hard to control?”

  “Make no mistake, Lyfair, my son will do what I tell him and being that he loves God so much, you can help with that. If we need him to do something and he questions it, just tell him God has need of him and he will jump down on his knees and ask what part of God’s ass he can kiss.” The lord laughed and poured himself another cup of wine. “My son is a master at arms and the joust. Aside from that, his mind is, should I say, not as sharp as his father’s.”

  He laughed again. “Don’t worry about my son or my end of things. You just take care of what you need to, Father. See to it he dies by the end of the week.”

  Lord Blackthorn got up from his chair, pulled his cloak on, and started to walk out.

  “What about the king holding court day after tomorrow?” Lyfair said.

  “That is a perfect opportunity for you, Father,” Lord Blackthorn said with an evil grin. “The stress was just too much for him. He died still trying to serve Bandara.” Blackthorn pulled on his gloves.

  “And you do understand what I want you to do?”

  Lyfair reluctantly nodded.

  “Yes, Lord Blackthorn. I believe I do.”

  “Now I have pressing business elsewhere, Father.” The lord turned to go. “Then by this time next week, Bandara will be free of King Aaron’s nonsensical leadership, Lyfair, and you and I will both have what we want,” he said over his shoulder.

  “Good night, Lord Blackthorn,” Lyfair hissed.

  The lord held up his hand as he walked out the door.

  He had one week. The king would last that long at least. Murder, that was what Blackthorn had just told him to do. Murder the king. Letting the old fool die of his illness was one thing, killing him was another. Lyfair did not know if he could go that far, he was a man of God after all. He knew one thing for sure: if he didn’t kill the king, Blackthorn would, and if the former Lord of Braxton Bluff had to do it himself, the king might not be the only one they would have to bury.

  He was tired from hunting all day and had gone to bed early. He and Cain had killed two large boars late in the afternoon and they had drunk too much wine afterward. Bed was all he could think of when he had returned to his room at the palace. He was dreaming of Raygan when he was awoken by someone knocking on his door. Talorn put on a robe and stomped to his door, irritated by the disturbance. He jerked it open to find his father standing there, smiling.

  “Son, did I wake you? We need to talk. I know it’s late, but it can’t be helped.”

  His father brushed past him and right into his room. He eased down into a chair and appeared to be almost out of breath.

  “Father, what brings you here so late? I thought you were still in the Bluff? You should not be up so late. Let me get you a cup of water.”

  Talorn poured his father some water from the pitcher on his dresser. The old man took it, his hand shaking just a bit.

  “I needed to see you, my son, and talk over what happened with you and Cain. Did the prince agree to our offer?”

  Talorn went to his bed. His head was still foggy from the wine and sleep. “Yes, Father, he agreed to all of it, even the marriage. Cain said he would grant everything you asked for once King Aaron has passed away. Tell me you didn’t ride here alone, Father? I told you to take some of your guards with you if you planned to visit the capital.”
>
  The older man rubbed at his leg like it was sore. “I did come alone; do you think me so old I don’t know the way anymore?”

  Talorn sighed. “That’s not what I meant. It’s your health. What if you had taken ill on the way?”

  “Yes, my health, well, it’s a risk I had to take. I fear the king has little time.”

  Talorn shook his head and poured himself some water; the wine had made him thirsty. “That’s what Cain said as well. Selmac told him too. How long you think it will be?”

  Lord Blackthorn rubbed the back of his neck. “If I had to guess, Son, I would say the king won’t last out the week. We are very lucky that the prince has a good head for politics. I knew he would jump at the chance to have a man like you leading his army as well as bedding his sister,” the old lord said, smiling.

  Talorn’s face turned red. “She is beautiful, Father. As far as I’m concerned, she is the best part of the bargain. I don’t know Raygan well. Cain never let her come around us much when we were younger. I hope we will get along and at least share a few common interests. It will make the marriage much more agreeable.”

  Blackthorn slowly rose from the chair and walked over to his son, pulling him into a fierce hug. The old lord pushed him back and looked at his son with pride. “If you want to get on with the princess, just give her a good dose of cock every night and that should interest her and make her more agreeable.”

  “Father, please, you know I don’t like it when you talk like that, and I don’t want you saying anything lewd about Raygan. She is to be my wife and I want her treated with the utmost respect.”

  “It was just a jest, Son. I see you’re tired and I have disturbed you, get some sleep. We will talk tomorrow. I just wanted to let you know I was here, and I would be in the capital for a while. With the king so ill, I may be needed.” The old lord walked slowly to the door and patted his son on the cheek. “Talorn, you should see Bishop Lyfair. He was asking about you.”

  “Of course, Father, I will see him first thing in the morning.”