Void's Tale by Christopher Nuttall (best historical fiction books of all time .txt) 📗

it was in their interests to make sure that none of the three kingdoms got their hands on the mountain passes.  And it’s only a matter of time until he tries this again.

I silently counted the frozen men as I made my way up to the throne room.  The prince’s men were all willing allies ... given what he’d been doing, they probably would have been perfectly safe if they’d blown the whistle.  Kings tended to be a little wary of proven traitors - turning one’s coat was habit-forming - but they wouldn’t want to discourage them by executing whistle-blowers on the spot.  No, they’d all known what was going on and stayed with their prince.  I dismissed them from my mind as I stepped into the throne room and peered at the frozen prince.  He hadn’t moved an iota.

“And you never will,” I said, as I shaped a spell.  “Die.”

The prince’s body jerked as I drove a curse though his skull, then crumpled to the floor.  I stared down at him for a long moment, wondering if he’d had enough awareness to realise he’d been cursed before it was too late.  Part of me wished I’d had time to make him suffer, to make him pay in blood for everything he’d done; part of me was just glad he’d never have the chance to threaten anyone else.  I turned and walked out of the chamber, summoning my magic as I reached the door and headed into the forest.  Power crackled around my fingertips as I turned, raised my hand and directed a blasting curse into the fort.  Flames flared through the stonework, burning steadily towards the potions stockpile.  I shielded myself and waited for the explosion.  It would be visible for miles.

And no one will ever know for sure what happened here, I thought, as the fort went up like a volcano.  The king might never know what had happened to his son.  The White Council ... I wondered if they’d have the nerve to accuse me of anything.  Probably not.  There’d be too many people who’d be quietly relieved, now the prince was dead.  All the evidence has been destroyed.

I felt cold anger harden my heart as I watched the remains of the fort collapse into a pile of scorched debris.  I’d worked for the council for nearly a decade, tackling the jobs no one else could do.  I’d fought dark wizards and uncovered plots; I’d even fought necromancers and creatures from the Greenwood.  I’d done so much ... and I’d done it because I knew it needed to be done.  It was better to nip a problem in the bud, rather than let it grow into something that couldn’t be handled without us paying a terrible price.  And yet ...

My rage grew.  The council had lost its nerve.  Worse, it had sided with the monsters.  I could not forgive.  The rules were meant to be absolute.  They had to apply to all, or they couldn’t be enforced.  And because of politics, they were prepared to let a mad prince get away with a crazy scheme?  I knew, now, it was just a matter of time before the Allied Lands fell into chaos.  The council couldn’t hope to hold it together, let alone reunite the empire.  I’d hoped the council could become the strong central authority we needed.  I knew, now, that my hopes were in vain.

I’d always prided myself on looking the truth straight in the eye, in not allowing myself to be deceived by my own desires.  The truth was that the council had failed.  It needed to be replaced.  And there was no one who could do it, not in time to save the world.  The kings and aristocrats and magical families would play their petty power games, while dark wizards and necromancers and threats from beyond gathered their power.  The council had to be replaced.  Quickly.

“Well,” I said, to myself.  “I’ll just have to do something about it that, won’t I?”

Epilogue

 

Emily swallows, hard.  “What happened to everyone?”

Void shrugs.  “King Jonathon the Just adopted a child and swore blind he was a bastard son.  Everyone pretended to believe him, because it was better than the alternative.  Chuter got the blame for killing Prince Alvin, which I suppose he deserved.  The child became king in his turn, then died along with most of his kingdom when the necromancers overwhelmed Yolanda and its neighbours.  They never did learn how to work together.

“Juliana resumed her endless wanderings the day I left her and passed beyond my ken.  Gabby came into her magic and studied at Whitehall for a few years, before graduating and joining a sailing expedition that was intended to circumvent the world.  She never returned, nor did anyone else on that fateful voyage.  Eleanor ... I took her to a family I knew in Pendle and arranged for them to adopt her.  She went to Laughter when she came into her magic, then joined the Sisterhood and vanished somewhere in what would become the Blighted Lands.  Lord Ashworth, that weak and feckless man, married Fulvia and provoked the split in his family.”

He says nothing for a long moment.  “The Grandmaster of Whitehall was eventually brought down by a scandal even he couldn’t hide and forced to retire.  My brother took his place and cleaned up the school, as well as Dragon’s Den.  The local population was deeply grateful, given how many of them had been tormented by the student magicians.  He remained in office until his death, decades later.”

Emily winces.  She doesn’t want to remember the Grandmaster’s death.

“You used them as bait,” she accuses.  “Juliana and Gabby and the entire convoy.  You oozed your way into their lives and used them.”

Void meets her gaze evenly.  “I did what I had to do,” he says, calmly.  “They were in no real danger.  Once I got my hands on the intruder,