Finally, after walking for a full minute, Relam was able to see a few full platforms in the distance. Each was surmounted by a casket, similar to the one his mother lay in. At the foot of each casket was a statue bearing the likeness of the occupant. The statues were an equal mix of kings and queens, stretching even further into the darkness. All of them preserving a royal memory for eternity.
Narin abruptly turned left, down the first row of filled platforms. The guards followed a little more slowly with the queen’s casket. Relam and his father brought up the rear, careful not to tread on the soldier’s trailing cloaks.
At last, they came to a halt in front of an empty platform. To the right was a statue of a bearded king, a battle axe resting against his carved throne, the eleven-pointed crown on his head. This was Relam’s grandfather, the previous king to rule the Sthan. He had died when the prince was very young, and Relam did not remember him at all.
Relam quickly turned his attention back to his mother’s casket as the guards lifted it and slid it onto the stone platform. Then, everyone formed a loose semicircle and gazed at the queen’s resting place. Relam took a long shuddering breath and blinked back tears.
Narin rested a heavy hand on the young prince’s shoulder. “Courage, your highness,” he whispered. “Stay strong. For your father.”
Relam nodded and straightened, shaking his head slightly. Beside him, his father stood slightly hunched over, staring fixedly at the coffin. After several minutes, Narin cleared his throat and spoke.
“It’s time we were going. We have done our duty and delivered the queen to her last resting place. Tomorrow, master craftsmen will begin work on her statue. When they have finished, we will visit one last time, then the crypt will be sealed until the next time a member of the royal family passes.”
“You mean, we can’t visit in between?” Relam asked, surprised.
Narin shook his head. “Yes. That is the way it has always been. The dead are only disturbed when it is time to commend another ruler to their care. It also helps to keep people from despoiling the tombs.”
Relam nodded, understanding the reasoning behind the custom. “Very well. Let’s go back.”
Narin turned back towards the center of the crypt. The eight guardsmen, some rolling their shoulders now that they were free of the coffin, formed up around Relam and his father. Then, they were marching back towards the center aisle. They turned right at that point, and began the short walk back out of the crypt.
As soon as the last guard had passed through the entrance to the crypt, the two guards in black slammed the doors shut. Narin halted the column at the top of the ramp and smashed his staff into the ground again.
“The queen is no more,” he called to the assembled mourners. “She has been laid to rest with the past monarchs of this kingdom, commended to their care.”
Then, raising the staff overhead, he cracked it against the ground one last time. The clear, hard sound washed over the assembled people with an air of finality. Slowly, the mourners began to disperse. A few moved forward as though they wanted to speak with Relam or his father, but Narin and his guards kept them at bay with stern gazes.
“Shall we return to the royal suite, your majesty?” Narin asked Relam’s father.
The king nodded wordlessly.
The guards formed up once more and the royal party retreated into the palace. As they did, the swollen clouds overhead burst open, and rain began pouring down in great silvery sheets, battering the gardens. Those mourners who were still straggling away from the funeral were caught in the deluge and driven from the site. Soon, all that remained was the stone table, still bedecked with flowers and blossoms.
On their return to the royal suite, Relam sank into one of the armchairs by the fire. His father stood uncertainly in the middle of the room, as though unsure where to go to continue his silent, stoic grieving. Narin turned to go, but Relam stopped him before the door swung shut.
“Please, stay.”
The guard commander turned around, surprised. Apparently, he had thought that the prince would prefer to be alone with his grief. Relam gestured to one of the empty chairs.
“Have a seat. We need to talk.”
“Now, your highness?” Narin asked uncertainly.
“Yes. And help my father to a chair as well please,” Relam added, for the king had yet to move.
Narin shut the door, then ushered the king to one of the chairs near the fireplace. Once this was done, Narin took a seat as well, leaning forward. “Is something wrong, your highness?” he asked curiously.
“No, I just wanted to know if you had anything to report on my mother’s murder.”
“Not yet,” Narin replied grimly. “But we’re working every angle. I have men combing the list of party guests and I’ve spoken with a few of my informers to see who might gain power from a vacancy on the throne. It’s interesting what you can learn from people that always have an ear to the ground.”
Relam nodded thoughtfully. “But no suspects?”
“Oh, we have many suspects,” Narin said, snorting. “At last count, four-hundred and twenty-seven. That’s every noble who was at the banquet the other night, minus children.”
“You can cross off the ladies present as well,” Relam said. “The two voices Aven and I heard were obviously male.”
“Oh,” Narin said, nodding. “In that case, we probably have around two hundred and fifty suspects. Still not a good situation, your highness.”
“But better than it was,” Relam pointed out. “Is there any chance that this is connected to the other assassination attempt a year ago? Would the remaining prisoners know anything?”
“It’s a long shot,” Narin said, shrugging. “But it can’t hurt, I suppose. I’ll ask D’Arnlo if I can question them at the Citadel again. The two remaining assassins are still under the watch of the palace guards. They’re alive, but barely, and they don’t say or do very much.
“So, nothing’s changed on that front,” Relam observed. “What about the previous commander’s killer?”
“Nothing,” Narin said bitterly. “No witnesses, no suspicious persons, no bloody murder weapons showing up after the fact. Whoever organized the attack was extremely careful and extremely lucky.”
“Unfortunately for us,” Relam muttered.
“We’ll get them, your highness. Never fear.”
“I hope so,” Relam replied with a heavy sigh. “I promised my mother we would find her killers.”
“Murderers,” the king whispered suddenly.
Relam turned, surprised. “What was that?”
His father turned slowly to face him. “Murderers,” he said again, growling this time.
“Well, yes,” Relam agreed cautiously. “That would be another word for them.”
“They murdered her.”
“Yes,” Narin agreed patiently. “We’ve covered that already, your majesty.”
The king’s glare switched to Narin now. “Commander,” the king sneered. “Commander of the guard, trusted with protecting the royal family.” He raised an accusing finger slowly. “You have failed me.”
“Yes, your majesty, but-”
“You did not fail us!” Relam interrupted. “No assassin passed through those doors. We still don’t know how my mother died. All we know is that she was killed. Whoever organized this was extremely patient and extremely skilled.”
“She’s still gone,” the king replied, with growing conviction. “Someone must be held responsible.”
“We are working on locating the killers even now,” Narin said earnestly, leaning forward.
“Someone must pay,” the king continued, glaring at Narin. “And that will be you, commander. You failed me. You failed the queen.”
“No!” Relam said quickly. “Father, be reasonable!”
Narin paled and his mouth tightened to a thin line. “Your majesty, please, give me time to get to the bottom of this. As your guard commander-”
“You are not my
commander,” the king snarled. “Not anymore. My queen is dead because of you. Guards!”
The guards on duty burst into the room immediately. When they saw no obvious threats, they stood in the doorway, weapons held loosely, looking confused.
“Sorry, your majesty,” one said finally. “We thought we heard someone summon us.”
“It’s fine,” Relam broke in. “Just go back to your posts, thank you.”
“Quiet!” his father roared, rounding on him. “I am king here! And my orders are to arrest this man, your former guard commander for failing to protect the line.”
“No!” Relam shouted.
“Silence!” his father countered, springing to his feet. “Now guardsmen, or I’ll have the lot of you arrested.”
The guards moved forward uncertainly. Narin rose calmly staring at Relam steadily. Then, he turned and surrendered his weapons to his own men, slowly extending them hilt first to the nearest guard. The guard hesitated, then took them. Two other guards grabbed their former commander by the arms and waited for the king’s orders.
In that moment, Relam realized that if Narin was imprisoned, there would be little chance of his mother’s murderers being caught. Narin knew the events best, had contacts all over the city, and had men loyal to him. He was the only one who could solve this and find the men responsible. But he could not do that from a cell.
Relam searched desperately for a solution to the problem, racking his brains for any seed of an idea. But it was all too much too fast. He was jerked back to reality by his father’s next words.
“You will imprison him in the Citadel, where he will rot with no food or drink until such time as he dies,” the king commanded. “Such is the price of failure.”
The guards turned and began to march Narin away through the door.
“Wait!” Relam said, stopping them.
The guards halted expectantly, turning back to face the prince.
“How dare you defy me!” the king roared, springing to his feet. “Get on with it!” he shouted at the guards.
“Father, I have a suggestion,” Relam said, thinking quickly. “Let me go with the guards. We will take the prisoner to the Citadel dungeons.” Relam looked at Narin, turning so his father could not see his face, and winked slowly. “There we will execute him and bury him. He has failed you, and me, and by allowing the queen’s death committed treason. And the penalty for treason has always been death.”
The king nodded slowly, and sank back into his chair. “Go,” he said to Relam. “See it done.”
Narin inclined his head gravely to Relam. The prince paused only to take his sword from the weapons rack, then swept out of the royal suite. “Come on,” Relam muttered as he passed the guards.
Chapter 24
As soon as the door closed, Relam turned to the palace guards and gathered them around him.
“You’re not dying today,” he told Narin. “I need you to find the murderers and bring them to justice.”
“I will do my best,” Narin promised with a thin smile. “It will be very easy to move around the city if people think that I am dead.”
“Do you have a place to stay? Money? Maybe a disguise to help conceal our treachery?”
“I have friends in the city,” Narin replied. “Friends I can trust. They will help.”
“Good,” Relam muttered. He turned his attention to the guards next. “Listen to me. If anyone asks what happened, you accompanied me to the Citadel and watched me execute former commander Narin. He was buried like a common criminal, outside the city in an unmarked grave.”
“That won’t be enough,” Narin warned. “Your father will likely check to be sure that you actually killed me.”
“And how would he do that?”
“He would check with the Citadel, see if you arrived with a prisoner and left with a body in a bag.”
“Then that’s exactly what we’ll do,” Relam decided. “These guards will be the witnesses. Then, we’ll carry you outside the city, dig a grave, put the bag and a log in it or something. You hide out for a day or two, then sneak back in. Maybe on market day, two days from now, when there’s more traffic than usual.”
“That is a truly devious plan,” Narin allowed. He glanced at the four guards clustered around them. “I trust that the four of you will keep our little secret?”
“Always, commander,” one promised. The others nodded agreement.
Relam nodded. “Good, then let’s get going. We have a traitor to execute.”
The guards grinned mirthlessly, and even Narin gave a small smile. Then Relam frowned at them severely and they all assumed grave expressions. Narin bowed his head tamely and slumped his shoulders, looking for all the world like a defeated man on his way to his death.
“Much better,” Relam muttered. “Follow me.”
They marched straight through the main halls of the palace. Relam wanted the marching off of the former guard commander to have as many witnesses as possible so that his father would be more likely to believe it had actually happened. A few officials gave them curious glances, which Relam ignored, sweeping on with the guards in tow.
The small band emerged onto the front steps of the palace, into a light rain. Relam stoically led the way out into the weather, the guards following behind. The palace guards on duty at the front door were more occupied with staying dry than policing who was coming and going and gave them little notice as they passed. Soon, Relam’s band was milling among the other foot traffic in the plaza below, all but invisible among the masses.
“So far so good,” he muttered to Narin out of the corner of his mouth. “What happens when we reach the Citadel?”
“Ask the guard at the gate for an escort to the dungeons,” Narin replied, scarcely moving his lips as he spoke. “Once we are down there, we will be taken to the execution room, at the end of a row of holding cells for condemned prisoners. Since you are royalty and my crime is high treason, we should have no problem pushing to the front of the line. Have one of our men collect a body bag on the way in, and put me in it after you have killed me. Then, we walk back out.”
“Sounds good. Think it will work?”
“I hope so. Otherwise I’m dead.”
Relam nodded. “And that would be bad.”
“Shut up,” Narin grunted.
“You mean ‘Shut up, your highness’,” Relam said with a slight smile.
The guards snorted with laughter, then quickly composed themselves. All in all, it was one of the most cheerful execution parties ever. But that would not do when they reached the Citadel. Relam glanced over his shoulder at the guards.
“When we get there, you have to act the part. Imagine how you would be feeling if you were ordered to murder your commander. Channel that thought and play the part well. But don’t overdo it.”
The guards nodded and Relam turned back to face front, leading the small band to the right, out of the main flow of traffic. The Citadel was not much further, its massive walls rearing up over the wide street and casting it in shadow. As they approached the Citadel, a cloaked man with his eyes on the ground bumped into Relam, jostling him severely.
“Sorry,” the man muttered. “Didn’ see ye there.”
Relam reached for his dagger, just in case, but the man was already moving on. As Relam relaxed, his hand brushed a fragment of folded parchment protruding from his pocket. He snatched it free quickly and unfolded it.
“What’s that?” Narin asked.
Relam scanned the parchment briefly. “It looks like gibberish,” he replied. “Possess I, meet at RG five, E. Signed T, N, N.”
“That’s a code,” Narin countered, smiling slightly.
“What’s it say?”
“Not now. I’ll tell you while the others are burying me.”
Relam grinned and slipped the parchment to Narin. And not a moment too soon. Almost immediately after they had done so, the traffic cleared out ahead and they found themselves at the gates of the Citadel.
&nbs
p; “Halt!” the captain of the guards at the gate shouted. “Who goes there?”
“His Highness, Prince Relam,” Relam replied, drawing himself up. “I’m here to use the execution room. I have a man here convicted of treason.”
“Treason?” the guard asked, glancing at Narin. “He is sentenced to death?”
“Yes,” Relam said flatly. “I need a guide to take me to the dungeons. My men and I will handle the rest.”
“Of course, your highness, right away,” the guard replied, recovering from his momentary surprise. “Clen, escort his highness to the dungeons, then report back.”
“Yes, sir!” a guard replied, stepping forward.
The gates of the Citadel swung open to admit them, the portcullis rattling as it was hauled upwards. “Welcome to the Citadel, your highness,” the captain said, smiling.
Relam inclined his head briefly in reply, then followed Clen into the Citadel.
The Citadel guard turned abruptly, just inside the doorway, and led Relam’s group down a narrow flight of stairs. The lanterns were fewer and farther between here, and the air was cold and damp. The flight of stairs was short, only one or two stories, then the floor took a sharp turn to the left and leveled out. This corridor ran some hundred meters until they emerged in a wide circular room.
The walls and floor were unadorned stone, the ceiling vaulted and ribbed to provide support. All around, more hallways branched off the main room, twelve in all. In the center of the room was a ring-like desk with a polished marble surface. A meter wide gap at the far end of the ring provided access to the five seats arranged inside the ring. Only one chair was occupied at the moment, the one facing directly towards the entrance Relam and his guards had just come through. The clerk sitting there was hunched over his desk, and had not noticed them yet. Four Citadel guards stood around the perimeter of the room, standing quietly at attention.
Clen gestured to the clerk. “He can help you from here, your highness.” Then, the guard was gone, hurrying back towards the stairs to the surface. Relam watched him go for a moment, then strode forward confidently.
The Prince (Heirs of Legacy Book 1) Page 29
