The King's Blood

that. He’s a hobbyist. He didn’t command the death of your noblemen out of bloodthirst. He did it out of fear. The idea that if he could just cut off enough heads, he’d be safe. If he’d had to wield the axe himself, he’d have turned white and decided on clemency. He’s petty and a coward. He’s not even grand enough to be evil.”
    King Lechan shook his head.
    “He has defeated us.”
    “No,” Dawson said. “ I defeated you, and that hell-born priest defeated me. Palliako may have succeeded, but he’s never won anything. And he never will.”
    T
    hey found him,” Lord Skestinin said. He sat on a small three-legged stool the guards had brought for the purpose. The prisoners were consigned to the floor, but Dawson didn’t take the slight personally. He was well beyond that now. “They said he rose up out of the ground with Prince Aster at his side. Walked back to the Kingspire dressed in robes like a commoner. He’d been on the streets the whole time, but no one knows where.”
    “I’m surprised they aren’t saying he was killed in the original attack and rose up from the grave to preserve the kingdom,” Dawson said dryly.
    Skestinin’s chuckle had a nervous edge.
    “Odd stories do seem to find ways to attach to that man, don’t they?”
    “You’ve seen him?”
    “I have,” Skestinin said. “We would have been here sooner, but as soon as news of the trouble came, there were uprisings all through the north. I had to decide whether to risk losing all we’d gained in Asterilhold. And I…”
    You waited plausibly and at a safe distance until you saw who won , Dawson thought, but he didn’t say it.
    “Thank you for being my chaperone today.”
    “Least I could do,” Skestinin said.
    He wouldn’t meet Dawson’s eyes. It looked much like shame.
    “How are Barriath and Jorey?”
    “They’re well, considering. They’re free, for now, though Palliako’s personal guard is watching them like cats stalking pigeons. It’s a different city than the one I left after the wedding.”
    “Sorry about that,” Dawson said. “The renovations I’d planned turned complicated on me.”
    “Don’t joke about it,” Skestinin said. His voice was hard now. “You’ll be heard, and I’m risking enough by being here. If they hear I was cracking jokes about assassinating Prince Aster and the Lord Regent, it won’t go well for me.”
    “I apologize,” Dawson said. “Gallows humor.”
    The door opened and a young man—one of the group that had beaten Dawson on his arrival—looked in.
    “It’s time,” he said. “You can bring him.”
    The audience chamber was packed full. The summer heat still hadn’t broken, and with the press of bodies, the air felt as if it had all been breathed through twice already. Dawson had to sit on the floor behind a screen of woven iron, invisible from the court. Palliako was already on the throne on his raised dais, the crown of the Lord Regent on his brow. Aster sat at his side. Lechan, King of Asterilhold, knelt on the hard stone without so much as a cushion for his knees. From behind the screen, everything seemed in shadow, and Dawson found himself rocking from side to side trying to see the details better.
    He found Clara. She was standing in the second gallery with Barriath and Jorey at her side. Good boys. Sabiha wasn’t there. He found her on the first level, standing beside her mother. Basrahip was, of course, at the side where Geder could look to the man for his orders. Dawson wasn’t sure how many of the spider priests he’d had killed in the final account, but he wished they’d managed one more at least.
    “Watch the priest,” he said softly.
    “What?” Skestinin said.
    “When the time comes, Palliako will look to the priest for permission. If you watch you’ll see it.”
    “Enough, Dawson. We aren’t supposed to be speaking.”
    “So we won’t discuss it. Only keep your eye on them. You’ll see what I saw.”
    Geder rose and the hall grew quiet. King Lechan met Geder’s scowl with equanimity.
    “I’m Geder Palliako, Lord Regent of Antea. Lechan of Asterilhold, you are before me now as prisoner and enemy.”
    “I am,” the king said. He had the actor’s trick of speaking in a conversational voice, only loudly enough that it carried to the farthest ends of the hall.
    “I have only one question before I pass judgment upon you,” Palliako said. “Were you aware of the plot within your court to see Prince Aster dead in hopes of