Daughter of Regals by Stephen R. Donaldson Page B

Queen Damia stood
behind him and to one side. With his gaze upon me, he had no view of her. He
did not see her smile broadly in my direction.
    I did not take up her
hint. Instead,I turned my attention to Kodar. Having failed to make
him think better of his trust for Lodan’s queen, I encouraged him to see my
grave regard as a new deference. “My lord,” I said quietly, “I do not
understand.” If I could have pulled my hands free at that moment, I would not
have done so. They would have been of no help to me. “Possessing such strength
why have you troubled to mime rebellion?” I had no doubt now that the lesser
men whose lives he spent to further his plans were the sincere ones, the
honest rebels who believed—however wrongly—that the realm would be, better
without rulers. “Why do you persist in subterfuge now? And why do you accept
the hand of this treacherous queen in your dealings? Why do you not declare
yourself openly and claim what is yours by right? You require nothing but the
touch of true Stone.”
    At once, I saw that he
would not refuse to answer me. Where his Magic estate was concerned, pride
outweighed judgment.
    While Damia watched him
with a loveliness which might have signified either adoration or scorn, he
replied, “A hidden threat is stronger than a declared power. When first I
conceived my intent to rule the realm, my nature was unknown to me. Therefore
rebellion was the only path open. And now it is clear that I will be stronger
if none know how I betray those who serve me. My queen will assume the
throne—and an unknown Dragon will roam the Three Kingdoms, wreaking her will
and its own— and my rebels will continue to strike where I choose, thinking
that they still serve me. Stark fear and incomprehension will unman all
resistance. The realm will be unified as no Regal has ever been able to master it,
and every man and woman will tremble at my feet!”
    His vision of
sovereignty seemed to entrance him. But Queen Damia had no use for his
transports. “Kodar, my love,” she interposed, “this is pleasant—but the time
flees before us.” She was marvelously unafraid of him. “If the guests are
called to the Ascension before we have dispatched Thone and Thornden, our
opportunity will be lost. We must be at work. Will you accept the brave sacrifice
of this daughter of Regals?”
    He glanced down at his
knife and smiled. “Gladly.”
    The unmistakable look of
bloodshed on his face, he started toward me.
    I had no time left. I
had been meditating to the depths of my mind on what I must do in order to live—what
must happen to save me. There was but one hope, and it was as scant as ever.
But if I did not act upon it, I was lost.
    Summoning every resource
of will and passion and heritage, I sent out a silent cry of desperation and
protest. Then I ducked under the knife and flipped forward, away from the bed.
    I was hampered without
the use of my hands; but I contrived to roll my feet under me and spring erect.
Whirling around, I faced Kodar.
    He charged after me. The
knife swung. The unsashed brocade of my robe caught the blade, deflecting his
thrust as I danced aside. Though my sandals were paltry as weapons, I swung my
foot with all my strength against his knee. He answered with a grunt of pain.
    Trusting that small hurt
to slow him, I dove past his reach. He slashed at me and missed. Another flip
and roil returned me to the bed. Nearly staggering for balance because I could
not use my hands. I leaped onto the bed. From that position above him, I would
be able to ward off his knife with my feet for a moment or two.
    “Kill her, you fool!”
Queen Damia hissed furiously.
    A loud crash resounded
through the chamber as the wood around the doorbolt splintered.
    Another heavy blow burst
both bolt and latch. The doors sprang inward and shivered against the wails.
    Mage Ryzel strode into
the room.
    His bald head was
flushed with exertion; but there was nothing weak or weary in the stamp of