A LEGACY OF LIGHT

LERESY

LERESY

"Everything changes today," he whispered, perched upon the fortress walls in dragon form. "Today Leresy Cadigus rises."

He snorted fire from his nostrils. Below him in the courtyard, tables were set out in the open air. Winter was ending; the day was crisp but sunny. Smoke was pumping from the kitchen chimneys, and when Leresy sniffed, he could smell his wedding feast cooking. There would be roasted fowl, wild boar, lambs cooked in mint, and hundreds of pies and loaves.

It was a small feast, of course, compared to the splendor of the capital. Had he chosen to wed in Nova Vita, the Fire of the North, the entire city--a million souls--would feast with him. Banners of gold and crimson would flap from every roof. Ten thousand dragons would fly overhead, roaring for him. Troops would march down hundreds of streets, blowing horns and chanting his name.

Here in the south there would be none of that. Here in Castra Luna there would be some food, some drink, but mostly power. And power was what Leresy craved even more than splendor.

This is my domain, he thought and blasted smoke from his nostrils. Here is my fortress, my rule, my home. Here I will form this great alliance, and from here my wrath will descend upon the capital.

His troops stood upon the walls around him, all in human forms. Some faced the forests, keeping watch upon the horizons. Others faced the courtyard below; they would witness the glory of his wedding.

Again Leresy's eyes sought out Tilla. He saw her upon the eastern wall. She stood with her back to him, keeping vigil upon the woods. She held the banner of the Black Rose, a ring of iron upon a wooden pole--Nairi's sigil.

Strangely, seeing Tilla holding the sigil of his betrothed only made her more intoxicating. Tilla's hair blew in the wind, revealing her pale neck. She was a tall, noble warrior, yet so fragile, so afraid, so weak compared to his might. Leresy had always wanted to break her, to hurt her, to hear her scream, yet now he felt a strange need to comfort her.

What if he flew toward her, grabbed her, and carried her into the wilderness? What if they found some distant land to dwell in, just him and her? No more Shari plotting to kill him. No more Frey belittling him. No more Nairi craving his power and planning her ascent.

I could protect you from all that, Tilla, he thought. I could shield you from all the pain in the world. I would hold you in the dark and we would feel warm.

He looked away, grimacing.

No, he thought. He had worked too hard for this. He could not give up his ambitions, not so close to seizing his prize. He would have to play this game a little longer, to tolerate his family for a few more moons or years. But then... then he would strike. Then the throne would be his--and so would Tilla Roper.

Below in the courtyard, Frey Cadigus waited, clad in a burgundy robe and holding his scepter of power. Shari stood at his right side, Lord Herin Blackrose at his left. Before them, all across the cobblestones, five hundred axehands stood in formation--the men whom Leresy would soon rule.

"It's time," he whispered.

He took flight and dived toward the courtyard.

From the clock tower above, an iron dragon flew--Nairi Blackrose--and landed beside him. The two dragons, red and gray, stood in the courtyard before the emperor. Plumes of smoke rose between their teeth. They shifted together and stood in human forms, clad in black steel, awaiting their union.

Leresy looked at his father. He looked at the grooved face, the cold eyes, the thin lips. He looked upon this man and he hated him.

He looked aside at Lord Herin Blackrose, soon to be his father-in-law, and shivered.

Like all men of his order, Lord Herin wore black robes, and his left arm ended with an axehead instead of a hand. But unlike the others, Herin Blackrose--as their commander--wore no iron mask. Leresy thought it a pity; if anyone needed to hide his face, it was Herin. The man looked like a dying, furless cat. Herin was completely hairless; not merely bald, but lacking eyebrows and eyelashes too. He had no more teeth than hair; when his lips parted, they revealed bare gums. Wrinkles and boils covered his skin. Leresy could barely believe such a monster had fathered the beautiful Nairi. Lord Herin was a diseased freak, Leresy thought, but he was strong. His eyes blazed like steel in smelters. After the emperor, he was the strongest man in Requiem.

Finally Leresy looked at Shari, his older sister. She smirked at him, her eyes mocking, and gave him the slightest of winks. He knew what that wink meant. I will kill you, Leresy, she was saying, and he clenched his jaw.

Not if I kill you first, he thought.

He wondered where his twin lurked on this day. Was Kaelyn hiding in some tunnel, filthy and stinking? Did she run through some forest, dreaming of the day she could strike the capital? Was she bedding that vagabond Valien, the disgraced knight?

One day I will kill you too, Kaelyn, he swore. One day I will kill you all--everyone in this damn, foul world.

Emperor Frey raised his scepter, a rod of gold topped with a red spiral. He called out to the crowd.

"Today we join two great houses!" he said. "Today House Cadigus and House Blackrose become one. Today Requiem grows strong!"

The wedding began.