Chapter 44
The word of D’Arnlo’s death spread quickly through the Citadel. Guards hurried to the seventh level courtyard to see for themselves, gathering around the broken figure. Relam wasn’t sure what to do about them yet, but that could wait a few more moments. He went to the archers first, who were moaning and stirring restlessly.
“Are you all right?” he asked them gently.
One opened his eyes, blinking slowly. “I think I have orders to kill you,” he muttered.
“You did,” Relam said, backing away smartly. “But the man who gave those orders was a traitor. He is dead now.”
“D’Arnlo?”
“Yes,” Tar said joining Relam. “If you like though, you can attempt to carry out his orders still and we’ll brand you a traitor as well.”
“No,” the archer muttered. “We obey the master of the Citadel. D’Arnlo is dead, so he is no longer the master. We have a new leader.”
“For now, let’s say the prince is your new leader,” Tar suggested.
The archer shrugged. “Sounds . . . reasonable.”
“Glad to hear it,” Relam muttered. “Tar, send Sebast and Delan to collect the palace guards and Commander Hadere of the city guard. We need to set the record straight with them first. Then, I imagine the Assembly will want to know what the hell has been going on in here.”
“Aye,” Tar agreed, moving towards the stairwell. “And you still have to decide what to do about Lord Thius.”
Relam nodded morosely. “Yes,” he murmured. “I don’t look forward to that task though.”
Oreius and Yavvis walked over to join Relam, kneeling beside the archers and beginning to bind their wounds. “Sorry about the gash,” Yavvis said to one of them. “I had to be sure you wouldn’t stab us in the back later.”
“It’s all right,” the archer he had spoken to muttered. “You could have just as easily killed us, but you didn’t. I appreciate that, master swordsman.”
“You have his majesty to thank for your life,” Yavvis replied, inclining his head towards Relam. “He was very adamant about not killing unless absolutely necessary.”
“Even with D’Arnlo,” the other archer grunted. “I heard the whole thing. You gave him multiple chances to surrender and he took his own life. None of you are at fault for his death.”
“Glad to hear it,” Relam said, smiling. “Would you be willing to testify that to the Assembly?”
“Anything for the man that spared our lives,” the archer replied, bowing slightly from his sitting position. “Not that we deserved it. We were fools to follow D’Arnlo and try to kill you. But I guess obedience is sort of drilled into us at this point. We didn’t even question his orders.”
“We’ll have to do something about that,” Relam said drily. “But there are other things to attend to first. We need to restore order in the Citadel and count the dead and get help for the wounded.”
As they were talking, the door to the stairwell crashed open. Relam whirled, drawing his sword and preparing to defend himself, but it was just Cevet and Narin, Jatt and Knet trailing behind.
“You’re all right!” Cevet crowed.
“And D’Arnlo’s dead,” Narin said quietly. “We saw him fall. That’s not something I’ll soon forget.”
“Yes,” Relam agreed. “He took his own life. I thought about offering to spare him and just hold him in the Eyrie tower forever, but before I could make the offer-”
“It’s better this way,” Oreius broke in. “It’s finished now, and in the past. If you had just imprisoned him, there would always be the chance of him escaping.”
“I suppose,” Relam said, shrugging. “Still, it was a terrible thing that happened.”
“Not as terrible as what D’Arnlo intended to happen,” Narin countered. “He killed your mother, possibly your father, and then tried to kill you. The entire royal family, assassinated so that he could take the throne and remake the kingdom to his liking.”
“That’s the thing,” Relam said, looking around at the others. “We still don’t know if he killed my father. We never asked, and he never confessed to it.”
“Who else could have?” Yavvis asked, glaring down at the crumpled figure far below.
“A great many people,” Oreius replied grimly.
“Maybe my father knows,” Cevet suggested. “If it was one of D’Arnlo’s agents, I mean.”
“Maybe,” Relam agreed doubtfully. “Do you know how much your father knew of D’Arnlo’s schemes?”
“Not sure,” Cevet said, shrugging. “But he seems to have been pretty high up in the effort. Unfortunately.”
“I just don’t understand why he did it,” Knet said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Your father was never, well, perfect, but I never would have thought him capable of treason.”
“Neither would I,” Relam murmured.
Cevet scowled. “He liked power,” he said darkly. “He loved lording over the Assembly. Maybe he viewed co-ruling the kingdom as the ultimate position.”
They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Relam looked around, trying to find a way to move on from this topic, and realized that armed members of the city guard and palace guard were hurrying towards the Citadel from multiple directions. Apparently, the battle had finally drawn the attention of the rest of the city.
“It looks like reinforcements have arrived,” he said abruptly, gesturing to the River Road. “We’d best go and let them in. Yavvis, can you get us down to the entrance hall?”
“Of course,” the sword master said, moving towards the stair well.
“Good. Narin, while we’re doing that gather any of the officials in the Citadel you trust and start trying to get this place under control. You are the Master of the Citadel for now.”
“We’ll go with him,” one of the archers said, standing gingerly. “Might help if the others see Citadel guards on your side now that the battle is over.”
“And we can act as witnesses, confirm that a new Master of the Citadel has been named,” the other added.
“Good thinking,” Oreius agreed. “Do you have any weapons?”
“No.”
“One of you, take D’Arnlo’s sword,” Oreius directed. “And you, scavenge one from the first dead guard we come to.”
“Yes, sir,” the guards replied immediately.
Relam looked at them curiously. “What are your names, soldiers?”
“Pike, sir,” the first replied, dipping his bald head slightly.
“Ross, your majesty,” the other guard, who was rather shorter than normal height, added.
Relam studied their faces, memorizing every detail. Then, he nodded. “You will be remembered,” he told them. “Help us clear up this mess, and we’ll forget about those arrows you shot at us.”
“Thank you, your majesty,” Pike said, bowing low. “You are most generous.”
“We should get moving,” Oreius interrupted. “Before someone else involved in D’Arnlo’s scheme can take control of the situation.”
Relam nodded in agreement and gestured for Yavvis to lead the way. The sword master guided the small group down through the towers and twisting passages of the Citadel. They encountered few guards, and those they did see backed away smartly and averted their eyes as Relam passed. The young prince pretended not to notice, keeping his own eyes on the path ahead.
Finally, they reached the lowest level and emerged into the entrance hall. Everything here was just as it had been when Relam passed through hours earlier, on his way to confront D’Arnlo. There were still squads of guards hanging about, torches and lanterns flickering on the walls. The sturdy pillars still stood at regular intervals, supporting the low ceiling.
The gate was unattended though, the gate guards having escorted Relam up to the seventh level courtyard earlier. In fact, they were probably still tied up there, Relam realized. He would have to send somebody to free them at some point, even though they had attacked him. They had simply been following orders, th
at was all.
Or was it? Relam stopped in his tracks, looking back over his shoulder and up through the ceiling, trying to picture the scene in his head again. The captain had seemed glad to see Relam, eager to turn him over to D’Arnlo. Had he really just been carrying out orders, or had the treasonous conspiracy penetrated deeper than Relam thought?
“Something the matter?” Oreius said in his ear, making Relam jump.
“Yes,” Relam said after a moment. “We’ll never really know who all was involved. And that means we won’t catch every traitor in the Citadel.”
“Possibly,” Oreius replied. “But that won’t matter. They will see what happens to those you do catch, and they will see a strong king that will not easily be overthrown.”
“Like my father?”
Oreius shook his head. “Forgive me, Relam, but your father was not a strong king. At least, not for the last year and a half or so.”
“He was always working-”
Oreius shook his head and Relam broke off. “That does not make a strong king,” he said. “Tell me, how did most of his meetings go? That you sat in on, I mean.”
Relam frowned, thinking. “I’ve only been to a few,” he said slowly. “But he always sent the others packing.”
“Yes!” Oreius said, nodding. “He soared over them, pushed his agenda with no compromise, and left no room to negotiate. Was that what you saw?”
“Roughly,” Relam admitted. “But the Council had it coming, stuck up, arrogant-”
“Fools and fops they may be,” Oreius agreed. “But a strong king hears them out anyway, then helps them understand why they are wrong and he is right. It is the harder way, it takes more patience. But it is the way to becoming a respected and wise leader, not a tyrant. I suspect - and I am only guessing here - that your father’s high-handed dealings with the Council may have been part of what pushed Lord Thius to join with D’Arnlo.”
Behind Relam, the gates were beginning to creep open as the others set their backs to the windlasses set to either side. “I see,” he said quietly. “I still have a lot to learn.”
Oreius shrugged. “One does not learn to be king in a day, Relam.”
“But I have to,” Relam pointed out.
“No,” Oreius countered fiercely, surprising Relam. “You have to do your very best. And learn constantly to avoid making the same mistake twice. You will learn by experience instead of teachings. And sometimes, that turns out to be the best way to learn.”
“But if I make a mistake-”
“Oh, you’ll make hundreds!” Oreius replied, laughing. “But you will learn, and you will become a wise and strong ruler.”
“How can you know?”
“Well, I don’t know for certain,” Oreius said, shrugging. “Nobody has the gift of seeing the future precisely. For all I know you’ll be assassinated in the next ten minutes or you’ll fall down the stairs upon your return to the palace. But barring such catastrophes, I believe you will be a strong king for the same reasons that I believed you were a student worthy of my time.”
“Which are?”
“Your character. Your drive to succeed. Your ability to bring people together, even the lordlings who you quarreled with for years and years. Your courage, and your reckless pursuit of excellence. Beyond that, you are fair and just. You would not allow us to kill the guards who had turned against us, if their deaths were at all avoidable. You showed mercy to people who were victims of D’Arnlo.”
“Not all of them,” Relam muttered. “Some of them I’m sure were working with him.”
“And those I trust you will judge appropriately,” Oreius agreed gravely. “But the point is, I trust the young man who I have trained for the last several months. I trust his character, and his ability to learn. Skills will come to him over time, and he will be a strong and wise king.”
Relam felt tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He had no idea that Oreius thought so highly of him. “Thank you, master,” he said humbly.
“Of course, your majesty,” Oreius replied, bowing low. “Now,” he continued as the gates finally opened completely. “It’s time to tell our guests what has happened here.”
No sooner were the gates open than Relam’s personal guards surged through the gap, weapons drawn and ready, glaring around suspiciously. “What do you mean by that? Running off in the middle of the night?” Wil demanded before shoving Relam behind him and forming a circle of outward facing blades with the rest of the guards. “We were out of our minds with worry, thought we’d lost you too, your majesty.”
“Relax,” Relam said. “I’ll explain everything. You can put the swords up.”
“Your majesty,” Eric interrupted. “I think it would be wiser to-”
“That’s an order!” Relam snapped.
His guards sprang to attention and sheathed their blades. “Much better,” Relam muttered. “Now, gather around and I’ll tell you what’s happened here. And a few other things, as well. But first, we need the others. Hadere and Eckle that is.”
“Do we have to include him?” Wil asked petulantly.
“Unfortunately, yes,” Relam replied with a wry grin. His guards chuckled at the shared joke, instantly more at ease. Oreius stepped up beside Relam and smiled at him.
“Hadere!” the sword master called. “Eckle! There’s a story to be told if you’re interested.”
“A story?” Eckle demanded. “I have no time to waste on childish things like stories. I need to get his majesty back to the palace and-”
The palace guard commander broke off as he joined the circle and saw Relam standing there expectantly. “Oh, pardon me your majesty,” he said, reddening. “I didn’t realize you were right here.”
“I am,” Relam said. “Now, please, stand with the others here while I tell you what has happened in the last twenty-four hours. It’s a fascinating tale.”
“Really, your majesty, I think it can wait until we are safe back at the palace.”
Hadere moved over and laid a hand on Eckle’s shoulder. “Your prince is giving you an order,” he said pointedly, winking at Relam.
“Fine!” Eckle snapped with extremely bad grace. He looked around for a place to stand where he would not be in the way and noticed that Wil was by his left shoulder. The guardsman smiled and waved cheekily. Eckle glared at him and abruptly turned and moved to the end of the line, as far from Wil as possible. At this, Wil and Johann sniggered knowingly, hands over their mouths.
Once the mirth had run its course, Relam began his tale. He started with the assassination attempt over a year ago, and the interrogation of the prisoners, moving right into his mother’s decline and eventual death, including the conversation that he and Aven had overheard.
Until Relam brought up Narin’s ‘execution’, the listeners were silent and attentive. But as soon as it was revealed that Narin was alive, a storm of questions broke loose from Hadere and Eckle.
“You disobeyed the king?” Hadere asked, looking at Relam and his personal guards.
“But . . . but that’s treason!” Eckle spluttered. “You helped a condemned man escape justice!”
“Escape justice?” Wil snorted. “You really are as thick as you look. Narin was twice the commander you’ll ever be. Justice. Ha!”
“Quiet,” Relam said curtly, calling Wil to order. “Let it go,” he added as Eckle drew breath to reply. “Narin has served the crown extremely well in the last year and a half. He is pardoned of all crimes, real and imagined. He is no longer sentenced to death and is not a fugitive. And for now he will be serving as the new Master of the Citadel.”
“Here, here!” Johann crowed.
Eckle looked decidedly unhappy about that, but held his tongue. Hadere took the news much better, grinning broadly and clapping Galen on the shoulder. “You men did well,” he said to Relam’s guards. “Doing the right thing isn’t always about following orders.”
“Yes,” Relam said drily, sliding a glance at Oreius. “That’s a lesson that nee
ds to be learned by a great many soldiers in this building. Now, back to the story. Where was I?”
“Your mother’s death,” Oreius said gently.
“Oh,” Relam said, his heart thudding painfully. “Yes. Well, anyway, after my mother’s death and Narin’s execution, I started training.”
Realm blew through the next few months quickly, summing up his training and the frustration with the lack of results from the investigation. Finally, he reached the events of the previous night, describing in great detail the battle with the assassin and the man’s subsequent death at D’Arnlo’s hands.
“Bloody idiotic thing to do,” Eric muttered. “Killing him right by the Citadel like that.”
“It was the middle of the night,” Hadere pointed out. “There wasn’t supposed to be anyone around.”
“But there was.”
“But-”
“It doesn’t matter!” Relam interrupted, glaring at them. “Can I finish? Without interruption?”
“By all means,” Wil said, grinning. “Nobody is stopping you.”
Hadere leaned forward, glancing sidelong at Wil. “You might remember that you are in the presence of a king, soldier,” he said pointedly.
Wil flushed and looked away. Relam nodded his thanks to Hadere, then continued his tale, describing the sleepless hours at Oreius’ house, trying to decide how to go about apprehending the traitor and whether they had enough evidence to do so reasonably. When he reached Cevet’s part of the story, a storm of exclamations erupted from his listeners.
“Thius?” Galen was shouting. “He was in on this as well as D’Arnlo?”
“I don’t believe it,” Eric muttered. “I thought he was one of the good ones.”
“I believe it,” Hadere interjected. The others, including Relam, stared at him in amazement. The commander of the city guard wore a pained expression, but his eyes were far away, lost in some distant place.
The Prince (Heirs of Legacy Book 1) Page 52
