The Gathering Dark (The Kingkiller Duology #1)

Prologue - Death Knells and Lunatic Bells

 YEAR ZERO - ONE YEAR BEFORE 1 A.V.

Some would say the queen was frightened in her last moments. The singers would weave a tale of lamentation, the epics would not brand her a hero. But not many knew Aenora Galaenys beyond their loathing for her, not many could bear gazing into the face of the sun for too long.

Careful not get too close to stars, Arving Caildish had said once upon a time, they'll love you not.

But those who wept in the city outside the keep were not stars. It was those within.

Vaerys knew better than the singers, than the historians. For the queen had nary a frightened bone in her body, rather, she was furious. For the nonce, at least, not with her. No, Aenora was furious for her. For her incompetent daughter who was good for naught but tripping on the train of her mother's robes. Furious for her people, who had spent their days cursing her and nights plotting against her, now screaming for terror beyond the walls of the Red Tower. Crying, kalahf, kalahf!— Mother.

Come away, Lord Caildish was saying, Vaerys.

Vaerys Galaenys couldn't see much in the dark of night, nothing at all if not for the blazing fires all across Veritas as far as the eye could see, dark plumes of smoke reaching empyrea-ward. But she heard, and that was enough.

"He's coming," spat Aenora from her bed, the wrath no longer upon her but consuming her. "Oh, gods spare us, he's coming."

Men and women and children wept, wives and sons burned, lords and beggars alike were slaughtered in their beds, if beds at all they had.

"He'll kill us all," Arving murmured, hands folded over his ample stomach, and Vaerys thought he sounded a trifle resigned. Mayhap more.

"Say it again, my lord," the queen rasped, "say it again and I'll guarantee I kill you before he has the chance."

Vaerys shivered in her thin shift, bare feet cold on the marble floors. Two of the tall lattice-covered windows that spread across the curved north-east-facing wall of the turret were swung open, revealing the ruin of Veritas.

"He'll kill you first, my queen," Arving declared gravely and Vaerys tore her gaze away to scrutinize her mother's Advisor Paramount. She knew not where the remaining privy council members had scurried off to, concealing themselves in a safe burrow somewhere like a Vlaresil meerkat, or why they had abandoned their queen in her time of need. Or rather, Vaerys knew precisely why. The same reason why more and more faithfuls joined the Haere Gedrod. Guards stood outside the queen's chamber, only one within. Sir Hamel had only one eye, and it held all the bloodthirst of thrice such. The knight was in complete regalia, steel armor glinting in the firelight, mangled beard beneath his half-helm. When Vaerys dared a glance, he was glaring directly at her, as if he was like to be biding his time 'till Ragaevor to stormed the castle so that he might have her as his last meal, like the man-eater giants who lived in the highlands of Kjirde.

Vaerys crept over to her mother's bedside, where the queen lied, sweat beading on her brow, ash-white waves fanned around her stricken face. Aenora didn't meet her questioning eyes.

"Arving," she rasped, and the lord was already there. "Pray fetch me wine. Vaerys, girl, come close— hurry now, not much time left." Vaerys shrunk with each of her mother's words, spoken without care. "Why do you tremble so?" Aenora's voice was sharp as Rahaellis-forged steel.

She watched as Arving poured dark liquid from a decanter in the wine cabinet. "I'm scared, mother."

Kalahf, kalahf! they cried, Mercy kalahf!