Mantos

  The palace flooded with bad news. Flocks of leathery gargons swooped from all directions. Mantos sat on the window seat, stuck his chamber in a dusty tower, watching the creatures arrive and depart. I wonder what the letters say, he thought. Information about my brother and his schemes no doubt.

  Mantos pressed his back to one of the cold stones wall of the deep window and set his feet on the other. He toyed with his lightning strike pendant as he watched from his perch. He and his mother had been spirited to their respective towers, hidden from prying eyes. As the day waned, Mantos counted the stones in the courtyard below, listened to the idle splash of the grand fountain in its middle, and wondered why he was alive.

  What use am I to Queen Valentia? he thought. I know nothing of my brother’s plans. The thought plagued him as he stared at the folk crossing the courtyard. The Althemerians had no intention of bowing under the might of the Masvams. That was no secret, for they never had. Once, when Mantos was an ungendered youngling, the two nations had held an uneasy peace. Now they were enemies, the battle lines drawn in Queen Valentia’s ink. She would never marry a Masvam, nor marry her offspring to Masvams.

  Braslen, furious, had spent the last decate and a half of his life working towards Valentia’s punishment: crushing the Althemerians under his boot heel.

  Mantos turned from the window and closed his eyes, his brow furrowing. He knew of Braslen’s plans. He knew the strengths of the army, how many soldiers and ships they had. He knew how Braslen’s conquest was to unfold, for he had been implicit in its planning. Mantos, the heir, at the heart of the fighting, pushing their borders forward. He had pressed through Selama and killed their queen. Next was Metakala and King Eron.

  But, Mantos thought as his head lolled to the side, those were Braslen’s plans. He opened his eyes again and focused on the window. He tracked the ripples in the glass. Bandim was not Braslen and there was no guarantee he would do the same thing. What information Mantos had might not be of help to Queen Valentia and she must have known that. Mantos thought back to all the things Braslen had said about Valentia. She was strong, intelligent, as good a ruler as a female could be. She was canny and brave and commanded the respect of her folk.

  Valentia was no fool, Mantos knew. So why bother to bring him back to life if he had no real use to her? Unless…

  A thought struck him hard as a hammer blow. Mantos let his legs drop, turned, and sat on the edge of the window seat.

  The true emperor of the Masvams was in her debt. What better conquest was there than controlling the Masvam Empire?

  None. That’s why I’m alive…

  The door opened. A set of light feet entered but Mantos didn’t look up. Instead, he stared at the rushes scattered on the floor. The feet approached, and a voice broke the silence.

  ‘It will only be a matter of time before the queen calls you.’

  It was his mother.

  Mantos still didn’t look up. He began counting the rushes.

  ‘Mantos,’ his mother said. ‘Please.’

  With a sigh, he finally looked up.

  ‘I know,’ he said.

  Phen’s footfalls were soft as she approached. Mantos took in the image of his mother, dressed in clothing more befitting of his father. Nothing was stranger than seeing her alive and well, though her face was pained.

  ‘What will you tell her?’ Phen asked.

  Mantos shrugged one shoulder, a slow up and down movement.

  ‘It depends on what she asks me,’ he said petulantly.

  Annoyance flitted across Phen’s face. Mantos held up a placating hand.

  ‘I should not be so flippant, I know,’ he said. ‘The reality is that I am in her debt. I know it is only my rank that keeps Queen Valentia from clapping irons around my wrists.’

  ‘We are in her debt,’ Phen corrected. ‘She saved my life as well.’

  Mantos gave a small nod and slid off the window seat. Phen touched his arm and tried to smile.

  ‘The Althemerians are our only allies now,’ she said. ‘We have no-one else.’

  Mantos’s voice was suddenly cold and sharp as steel.

  ‘Allies?’ he asked. ‘They are not our allies. They are our captors.’

  Phen withdrew her touch. Mantos felt the absence of her warmth on his skin.

  ‘Is that what you would say to Fonbir?’ his mother asked. ‘Would you call him a captor?’

  Mantos’s brow furrowed and his mouth twisted with confusion. What did she know about Fonbir? And more importantly, how did she know it?

  ‘Fonbir told me of your relationship,’ Phen said. For a moment, she smiled. ‘I told him I was not surprised that my youngling had carried on a forbidden love behind their father’s back. It’s what I would have done.’

  Reeling from the revelation, Mantos fell back onto the window seat. He scanned her face and found nothing but kindness, and a hint of pride. She did not share her husband’s ire for the Althemerians. Then again, he realized, she had been out of her wits when Braslen had severed all relations with the Althemerians. Why would she hold any anger towards them? Mantos shook his head. There must be much that has changed for her.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  ‘Unfortunately,’ he said, ‘Fonbir has no power here. The princesses are next in line for the throne, despite his greater age. Males do not reign here. It is not he who is the captor. It is his mother.’

  Phen nodded. She laid her claws on her son’s shoulders.

  ‘The queen will ask you for the empire’s secrets,’ she said. ‘She will want to know every detail you know. How many troops Bandim has, how many ships, where the weaknesses are in our borders, and what Bandim is likely to do next.’

  Mantos settled a hand on hers and nodded.

  ‘I must hand over Masvam secrets and betray my brother,’ he said, ‘I must work to take back my crown, my empire. But…’ He shook his head, letting his hand fall again. ‘The empire was never mine. Father was dead less than a day when I…I died. I did not rule. I was not the emperor. I was never crowned.’

  Phen’s eyes were bright, and she squeezed his shoulders.

  ‘That doesn’t matter, my son,’ she said. ‘You are destined to rule. It is in your blood.’

  ‘I was not destined to rule,’ Mantos said slowly. ‘I received the throne by accident, by virtue of hatching a few minutes before my brother. I should not have lived past my second hatchingday. It was only for you that I did. The Althemerians talk as if Bandim is a usurper, as if he doesn’t deserve the throne. But he does deserve it. He was supposed to reign. Fate has finally dealt him that which he was entitled to long ago.’ Mantos shook his head. ‘We are Masvams. We conquest and we spread our borders. If that is what Bandim intends to do, who am I to stop him? The Althemerians might rail against it but it is the Masvam way—much as I don’t agree with it.’

  Phen’s expression twisted. She withdrew her hands and bit her bottom lip, shaking her head. Mantos’s flesh tingled with a sudden coldness. A secret sparkled in her eyes and Mantos stood.

  ‘Mother? What is it?’

  ‘Mantos, I…’ Phen looked away. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. ‘Bomsoi… She told me something. Something about why she could bring you back from the dead. It is something that concerns your brother.’

  She stared through the window, into the solemn afternoon. It was Mantos’s turn to place a hand on her shoulders. He gently turned her around.

  ‘Mother, what is it?’ he asked. ‘I don’t understand what happened to me. I don’t know why I died, or why I was brought back. Whatever you know, I need to know.’

  When Phen looked up at him, there were tears in her eyes. Mantos tilted his head to one side.

  ‘Mother?’

  ‘Your brother,’ Phen said, her voice thick. ‘He…’

  Words failed her, and Mantos gave her the gentlest of shakes.

  ‘Mother,’ he said again. This time his words were a command. ‘Tell me.’

  Phen blinked, sending two silver trails down her face.

  ‘Bandim,’ she said. ‘He…he was the one who killed you. Or at least, it was his goddess. His…darkness.’

  Mantos stilled as the words washed over him. At first he could not understand them. He and Bandim had never seen eye to eye. They had been brothers but never friends. There was no way… Mantos shook his head. What his mother said could not be true.

  ‘Bomsoi told me there was sorcery in your death,’ Phen continued. ‘That was why she could bring you back but not your father. And with all of this, with this magic, with the talk of the Lunar Awakening and summoning the False One…’ Phen gulped a breath, beating back tears. ‘Bomsoi said it was Bandim who wanted you dead. It was on his orders. That a Moon Rogue cast a spell and…’ Phen broke off. She wrapped her arms around her thin torso. ‘It’s all too much,’ she breathed. ‘To think that my two sons are now at war and there is nothing I can do about it…’

  Reeling, Mantos released his mother and stumbled to his bed. He leaned against the post, chest heaving. It couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t.

  Yet there was a voice in the back of his mind that contradicted that. Of course Bandim would kill him. He hated Mantos. He resented him for what their mother did. He saw Mantos as a threat. He wanted the empire. He wanted to claim what was rightfully his.

  Mantos’s mind flooded with memories of his violent dreams. Of Bandim, wicked and cruel and jeering. Of himself, being ripped apart in the most horrific agony.

  He pressed his talons to his eyes.

  Of course Bandim wanted me dead, he thought. Why would he want me alive?

  Despite this logic, the pain of unanswered questions burned in his mind.

  ‘How does Bomsoi know this?’ he asked. ‘And how was she able to bring me back from the dead?’

  Phen wilted onto the window seat.

  ‘Queen Valentia says Bomsoi can do things and see things that others can’t,’ she said. ‘And after seeing her bring you back from the dead, I believe it. I don’t know how she knows but I trust that it is the truth.’

  Mantos shook his head, still leaning on the bedpost.

  ‘That isn’t good enough,’ he said. ‘You have trusted in a Moon Rogue, just as you did before. Just like Bandim and his worship of the False Goddess Dorai.’

  Phen, her arms tightly wrapped around herself, looked desperately thin.

  ‘Bomsoi is not of the Dark,’ she said. ‘I don’t know what she is but I know she is not evil. What I do know is that we cannot let Bandim destroy this world.’

  Mantos’s lips curled.

  ‘What do you mean by that?’ he asked.

  ‘That is what he will do if he is emperor of the Masvams and a meddler in dark spirits,’ Phen said. ‘Bomsoi said she could bring you back to me and she did. She said she might be able to save Bandim, too.’ She took a shuddering breath. ‘There are many things about this situation I do not understand. What I do understand is that we cannot let your brother lead the world into the Dark. We cannot let him pull us into a bloody war.’

  Finally straightening and releasing the bedpost, Mantos swallowed. His mother’s words cut deep. Peace was what Mantos of House Tiboli lusted after more than anything else. Not war, not combat, not the hunt like his brother and father and grandfather before him. All he wanted was peace. And in search of this peace, he thought, must I send my brother to his death? The memory of his nightmares returned. Being split in two, cut to ribbons with knives…

  And the grinning figure of his brother—his brother who had killed him.

  ‘Mantos, Mantos… Dear brother, I will find you…’

  Mantos shook his head. Bandim thought nothing of sending him to his death. Why should he feel any differently? They had never been close, but this was different. This was evil—perhaps the first step in Bandim’s Dark plans. I owe him nothing, Mantos thought. Why not give the Althemerians what they wanted?

  Braslen’s final words returned.

  ‘You must lead the empire to new glories. Finish my work and spread the reign of House Tiboli from sea to sea. Continue what my father started, and plant the seeds of glory for your younglings and your youngling’s younglings…’

  Betray a brother, betray an empire, Mantos thought. Betray his father and his grandfather. Betray a way of life that stretched back hundreds of cycles.

  Be the Masvam who destroyed the Masvam Empire.

  Was it worth it, to seek revenge on Bandim for all he had done?

  A knock at the door heralded a messenger. Mantos turned away. Phen accepted the message at the door. She broke the blue wax seal and furled the note.

  ‘It’s from the queen,’ she said. ‘We are to go to her council.’

  She crossed the floor to Mantos and held the note out to him, though he did not take it. He didn’t even look up.

  ‘You must do what is right, Mantos,’ she said.

  Mantos finally turned his gaze upwards. He licked his lips and wound his talons together in a tight knot. Eventually he stood. Phen brought a hand up to rest on his armored cheek.

  ‘I hope you make the right choice, no matter what questions are put to you.’

  Mantos leaned into her touch and nodded.

  ‘So do I, Mother,’ he whispered. ‘So do I.’