Midnight Tides

Spelled by Nifadas, the King’s Champion had rested on a bench near the throne room’s grand entrance, managing a half-dozen bells of surprisingly sound sleep. Servants had awakened him with breakfast, beginning the day to come with surreal normality. Chilled in sweat-damp clothes beneath his armour, Brys quickly ate, then rose and walked to where Nifadas sat at the bench opposite.



‘First Eunuch, it is time for you to rest.’



‘Champion, there is no need for that. I have done very little and am not in the least fatigued.’



Brys studied the man’s eyes. They were sharp and alert, quite unlike the usual sleepy regard with which Nifadas commonly presented. ‘Very well,’ he said.



The First Eunuch smiled up at him. ‘Our last day, Finadd.’



Brys frowned. ‘There is no reason to assume, Nifadas, that the Edur will see cause to take your life. As with the Chancellor, your knowledge will be needed.’



‘Knowledge, yes. A worthy assumption, Finadd.’



The First Eunuch added nothing more.



Brys glanced back at the throne, then strode towards it. He came close to Nisall. ‘First Concubine, he will sleep a while yet.’ He took her arm. ‘Don’t worry,’ he said as she began to resist, ‘just to that bench over there. No further.’



‘How, Brys? How could it all collapse? So fast? I don’t understand.’



He remembered back to the secret meetings, where Nisall and Unnutal Hebaz and Nifadas and the king planned their moves and countermoves in the all-devouring games of intrigue within the Royal Household. Her confidence then had seemed unassailable the cleverness bright in her eyes. He remembered how the Letherii saw the Tiste Edur and their lands, a pearl ripe for the plucking. ‘I don’t know, Nisall.’



She let him guide her down from the dais. ‘It seems so… quiet. Has the day begun?’



‘The sun has risen, yes.’



‘He won’t leave the throne.’



‘I know.’



‘He is… frightened.’



‘Here, Nisall, lie down here. Use these cushions. Not ideal, I know-’



‘No, it’s fine. Thank you.’



Her eyes closed as soon as she settled. Brys stared down at her for a moment. She was already sleeping.



He swung round and walked down to the grand entrance, strode into the low-ceilinged corridor where he intended to make his stand. Just beyond, the Ceda was lying, curled up in sleep, on the centre tile.



And standing near Kuru Qan was Gerun Eberict. With sword in hand. Staring down at the Ceda.



Brys edged closer. ‘Finadd.’



Gerun looked up, expressionless.



‘The King’s Leave does not absolve you from all things, Gerun Eberict.’



The man bared his teeth. ‘He has lost his mind, Brys. It would be a mercy.’



‘Not for you to judge.’



Gerun cocked his head. ‘You would oppose me in this?’



‘Yes.’



After a moment, the Finadd stepped back, sliding his sword back into the scabbard at his hip. ‘Well timed, then. Ten heartbeats later…’



‘What are you doing here?’ Brys asked.



‘My soldiers are all in position. What else would you have me do?’



‘Command them.’



A whistling snort from him, then, ‘I have other tasks awaiting me this day.’



Brys was silent. Wondering if he should kill the man now.



It seemed Gerun guessed his thoughts, for his scarred sneer broadened. ‘Recall your responsibilities, Brys Beddict.’ He gestured and a dozen of his own estate guards strode into the chamber. ‘You are supposed to die defending the king, after all. In any case,’ he added as he slowly backed away, ‘you have just confirmed my suspicions, and for that I thank you.’



Blood or honour. ‘I know what you believe, Gerun Eberict. And so I warn you now, you will not be permitted the Leave in this.’



‘You speak for the king? Brys Beddict, that is rather presumptuous of you, don’t you think?’



‘The king expects you to command the garrison in defence of the city – not abandon your responsibilities in order to conduct your own crusade.’



‘Defence of the city? Don’t be an idiot, Brys. If the garrison seeks heroic final stands it is welcome to them. I intend to survive this damned conquest. The Tiste Edur do not frighten me in the least.’ He turned about then and, surrounded by his guards, left the chamber.



Blood or honour. I have no choice in this, Tehol. I’m sorry .



Bugg was not entirely surprised to find himself virtually alone on the wall. His ascent had not been challenged, since it seemed all the garrison guards had withdrawn to various choke-points in the city. Whether those soldiers would rise to stubborn defence remained to be seen, of course. In any case, their presence had kept the streets empty for the most part.