by Cayla Kluver
“Tadark and the unlucky thief were brought before the Queen, who, naturally enough, assumed some act of bravery on Tadark’s part. Upon her return to the palace, she insisted that he receive recognition for his ‘noble deed.’ Cannan thereupon placed him in the training program for the Elite Guard. I have always suspected that some other issue was preoccupying the captain at the time, otherwise he would have come up with a less grand reward.”
London moved away from the wall, indicating with his hand that we should descend the stairs, and I obliged. As we stepped out into the first-floor corridor, he finished his story.
“I would guess Cannan never thought Tadark would complete the training program, for about half of those who enter drop out. But he made it through. Personally, I believe someone made a mistake in determining who was to be admitted to the Elite Guard that year, thus cursing us with the constant and aggravating presence of our dear friend Tadark. My only consolation is that he is unlikely to advance up the ranks of the Guard, always and forever remaining a lowly lieutenant.”
I was forced to stifle another laugh as we walked onto the mosaic stone floor of the Grand Entry Hall and saw both Madam Matallia, clutching a basket of embroidery, and Steldor, carelessly flipping his dagger, waiting for me.
Palace Guards pulled open the twin entrance doors, and Madam Matallia, her graying hair arranged into a precise bun, stepped over the threshold and out into the sunshine. Steldor sheathed his dagger and stepped forward to bow and kiss my hand, then smiled lazily at me, an unmistakable trace of tedium in his eyes. Despite the simple style of his belted green-suede tunic, he was effortlessly stunning, and I felt plain in comparison in my sapphire-blue gown. I took the arm Steldor was extending, wondering if he counted me as just another task on his schedule, and glanced back to assess London’s reaction. My bodyguard, however, refused to meet my gaze.
The Central Courtyard was one of my favorite haunts, second only to the garden. Lilac hedges lined the wide stone path that led from the palace to the front gates, the point of entry into the grounds, and their profuse blossoms gave off a fragrance that clung to our clothes and hair like mist to the lowlands. Majestic oak trees, white birches and flowering cherry trees cast cooling shadows over the benches situated throughout the grassy expanse, while doors on both of the fifteen-foot-high side walls of the courtyard could be opened to provide access to the equally beautiful East Courtyard and West Courtyard. It was a lovely place to read, think or simply daydream. Neither the increased number of guards on the grounds nor the company I was keeping could dampen the joy I felt at being able to spend this early-June afternoon outside the palace in such a pleasant setting.
I came out of my reverie, trying to listen to Steldor, who was once more rambling on.
“I mean, there was nothing attractive about this girl at all. Luckily her father is wealthy so she’ll still marry well, but let me tell you we made quite the pair on the dance floor. It was the talk of the party, but not for reasons I would have liked. Don’t misunderstand me, I appreciate my father’s expectation that I show favor to the daughter of a comrade, and she was certainly in need of the attention, but I—”
“Yes,” I said sweetly, interrupting his monologue. “There are so many who would be pleased to receive a single crumb of your attention.”
He looked bemused for a moment, then continued undeterred.
“Well, yes. Who wouldn’t be, given my extraordinary looks, heritage and charm?”
My first reaction was to gawk, but then it occurred to me he might be teasing, and I managed to disguise my reaction with a girlish giggle. Sensing an opportunity to acquire information, I glanced around for Madam Matallia, who had perched herself upon a shaded bench and was conveniently out of earshot.
“Not to mention how strong and brave you are,” I put forth, moving closer to him. “I have no doubt that everyone admires you and, of course, would trust you with important information.”
“Well, I do hear about many things,” he confirmed, putting his arm around my waist, and I hoped I hadn’t given him the wrong kind of encouragement.
“Oh, do tell me about something…official.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Tell me something about Cokyri, perhaps about the Cokyrian woman who was our prisoner.”
“You want to know something about Cokyri?” he repeated, and I wondered if he had caught on to what I was doing.
“Yes, I mean, you’re so experienced and smart, you must have a theory about how she escaped.”
We stopped walking and Steldor faced me, brows drawn together. I reached out flirtatiously to finger the silver wolf’s head talisman that he wore around his neck, and he laughed. “Well, I am experienced and smart,” he smirked, placing his hand atop my own and pressing it against his chest. “But really, Alera, it would be much simpler just to ask me if you want the details of the investigation.”
I stared at his pendant, my cheeks turning every conceivable shade of pink.
“Then again, I do generally enjoy flattery, and your attempt to trick me into providing you with confidential information has been amusing.” To my mortification, he put his other hand under my chin, raising my deep brown eyes to his own. “But you’ll find it difficult to match my wits.”
I jerked my hand away from his, stung by his words, horrified and embarrassed that I had been caught. Spurred by the threat of tears, I turned around, not wanting him to know that he had hurt me. Taking several deep breaths, I walked bleary-eyed toward a stone bench that stood beneath the branches of a white birch tree. When I reached it, I sat down in as dignified a fashion as I could, gazing away from him and wishing that London would return and rescue me. After a moment, Steldor walked over to sit beside me, but I could not bring myself to acknowledge him.
“Now, now,” he said in a patronizing tone, and I felt like a recalcitrant child. “There’s no reason to be this upset that your little ploy didn’t work.”
When I refused to respond, his voice softened, and he sounded as though he were offering me a treat.
“I know my father and the King would be unwilling to talk about military affairs with you, but I see no harm in satisfying your curiosity. After all, there is no use to which you could put the information.” He began to play with the hair that tumbled down my back. “All you have to do is ask.”
My breath caught in my throat at the humiliating position in which he was placing me, but I swallowed my pride and looked at him, seeing no other way to garner what I wanted to know.
“I would appreciate the details of the investigation into the Cokyrian prisoner’s escape.”
“Very well,” he said, far too pleased with himself. He relaxed in an affected manner, resting his upper arms on the back of the bench and continuing to play with my dark brown tresses.
“We have reached no conclusions at this point, but I do know my father has redirected the investigation toward finding a traitor. The two dungeon guards who came on duty at midnight have confessed that they fell asleep during their shift. Neither man has ever shown neglect in his duties before, leading my father to suspect treachery. He thinks the guards were drugged.
“A meal was brought to the men about three hours after they reported for duty, and they nodded off right after they ate. Both say they woke with the rising of the sun, shortly before Kade came to retrieve the prisoner. That gives us the time frame of the escape.”
“Does your father suspect anyone in particular?” I probed, my embarrassment forgotten.
“No, but the traitor would have to have known the orders that were issued by Kade to the dungeon guards. They vary day to day, and only those on duty at that time and the Elite Guards know the schedule for changing posts. If the traitor knew the orders, he could have drugged the food.”
“So our traitor would have to be someone in the Elite Guard?” I forced the sentence from my tightening throat. The very suggestion was alarming, for these men were the royal family’s most trusted guards.
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“In theory. Hence the doubling up of all the bodyguards. The drugging also seems plausible because there were no signs of a forced breakout. The keys could easily have been used and returned while the guards were unconscious.”
“That’s frightening,” I murmured, and a chill swept through me despite the warmth of the day.
“Ah, never fear, Princess,” Steldor said with a self-assured chuckle, putting his arm around my shoulder and drawing me near. “I’ll protect you.”
“I’m sure you will,” I forced myself to say, slipping from beneath his arm to come to my feet. London’s lack of trust in Steldor was beginning to nag at me.
“Let’s walk a bit more, shall we?” I invited.
I spent most of the afternoon with the captain’s son, sharing a bite to eat with him and listening with feigned interest as he returned to making speeches about himself. Eventually, we went back inside the palace, I, at least, feeling somewhat guilty about leaving Madam Matallia asleep on her bench. Steldor accompanied me to the spiral staircase, and although he offered to escort me farther, I latched onto a Palace Guard to stand in for London.
Having escaped Steldor without a kiss, I trod lightly up the steps to the second floor, picturing the faces of the Elite Guards in my mind while I mulled over the possibility that one of them was a traitor. Most of them had protected the royal family for at least half my life, and I knew that in order to be inducted into the Elite Guard, a soldier’s loyalty to the throne had to be proven. What could have prompted one of them to betray the kingdom he loved?
Hearing muffled conversation from inside the library, I moved in the direction of the sound. As I approached the half-open library door, Tadark’s unmistakable voice reached my ears, and I sent the Palace Guard who had walked with me on his way. Words were tumbling from the lieutenant’s mouth, and I assumed London was with him, for no one else would have had the patience to put up with such never-ending chatter.
“When I was nine, I would steal my father’s sword to play with. I never hurt anybody, but I got in a lot of trouble, believe you me. For some reason, I kept doing it, though. I don’t know why. I guess I was just destined to be a soldier. It was my dream to become part of the Elite Guard. You people inspired me to become what I am today. I made a lot of stupid mistakes when I was just a soldier, so I didn’t think I’d make it, but I did! I remember hearing in military school about the training you have to go through to be in the Elite Guard, and I just thought, never. Never would I survive that. But once I was in the training program, I didn’t want to drop out, and so somehow I made it through.”
There was a pause, and I pictured Tadark surfacing like a swimmer for air, as his speech had surely put a strain on his lungs. Then he continued, more slowly, his enthusiasm now tempered with curiosity.
“How did you survive it?”
Time slipped away while Tadark waited for London to respond. I guessed that the deputy captain was reading a book and not paying any heed to what the younger man was saying.
“You’re the quiet type, aren’t you?” It was still Tadark who was speaking.
“Only around you,” London replied absently, at last giving his partner his due.
“Why’s that? I really can’t picture you talking much ever. You strike me as a bit…dull.”
I covered my mouth with my hand in order to keep from laughing out loud, drawing many odd stares from the guards and servants who passed me.
There was a pause, then London gave an explanation. “I just figure you talk enough for the both of us, Tad.”
“My name is Tadark.”
“What, you don’t like the name Tad? I think it fits you. Tad.”
“Don’t call me that!”
“Whatever you say…Tad.”
Tadark exhaled huffily several times, and I was certain London had returned to his book, at ease with Tadark’s displeasure. After a moment, the lieutenant collected himself and attempted again to engage London.
“You want to know why I follow you around all the time?”
“Because we’re stationed together?”
“Well, yes, but I mean other than that.”
“Tell me, Tad. Why do you follow me around all the time?”
“Because I respect you. You’re everything I strive to become—everything an Elite Guard should be.”
“I’m honored.”
“I’d hate to think you’d betray your king and queen for your own profit.”
A few moments of silence greeted this outrageous statement.
“What are you talking about?” London’s voice betrayed a belief that Tadark might be hopelessly feebleminded.
“Someone has to have done it—released the Cokyrian prisoner. It could be you just as easily as it could be anyone else.”
“There’s no proof that anyone helped her escape.”
“Oh, please. You know there’s a traitor. I’m just saying that…everyone…is a suspect.”
“You’re in no position to point fingers, Tadark. More often than not, the accuser is the guilty party.” London was riled. I had never before heard him use a deep, warning tone like the one he was using now. “Don’t push me. I can cause you a lot of problems, boy.”
“Boy? Who are you to be calling me boy? You look younger than I do!” Tadark was almost squealing, his voice rising in pitch as he became increasingly overwrought.
A book tumbled to the floor, and I knew London had gotten to his feet.
“Attention!” he barked. “Have you forgotten that I am your superior officer?”
“No, sir, I haven’t, sir,” Tadark mumbled.
“I didn’t hear you,” London snarled.
“No, sir, I haven’t, sir,” Tadark repeated, with greater volume and clarity.
I decided to intervene before some horrible punishment befell my younger guard. I knew London, who generally followed no rules but his own, had to be incensed to have called upon military protocol.
Swinging open the library door, I hailed them, deliberately cheerful. “I was heading back to my room when I heard you talking, and thought I might join you here.”
London, uncharacteristically agitated, stood across from me in front of the library’s bay window, the book through which he had been paging forgotten at his feet, while Tadark was frozen before him at attention amidst several scattered armchairs. Along the right wall, near the fireplace, were a sofa and several additional chairs. On the floor, between the seating areas, was a large rug upon which I had frequently lain during my childhood, often entertained by drawings that London would make for me. Book-filled shelves formed legions of aisles on the left.
“At ease,” London muttered upon seeing me, and the rigidity left Tadark’s posture despite the embarrassed flush that was creeping up his neck. The two men glanced at each other and I could almost hear the question that had formed in their minds—Did she hear us?
“Now, gentlemen,” I teased. “Judging by your faces, you must have been discussing something I’m not supposed to know about.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” London replied a bit too harshly.
I decided to stop making them feel self-conscious. “Well then, please resume your discussion. I’ll just browse through the books while we’re here.”
My father had assembled a substantial book collection over the years and had insisted that both of his daughters were not only taught to read but permitted to read a wide variety of subjects. The books themselves represented years of painstaking effort by scribes, who copied the original authors’ words onto sheets of parchment that were then bound in leather or in elaborately designed metal covers.
I meandered down one of the aisles, running a finger lovingly over some of the volumes. Here were books of science, theology, philosophy, history and medicine, along with vocabularies and encyclopedias. There were also compilations of short stories and folktales as well as poetry, romances and plays. London, in all likelihood, had been reading one of the books of law, for he had a keen mind and kn
owledge of Latin. I was thankful that my father was a progressive man when it came to the education of his daughters, for he had engaged tutors to teach us to read and write, to understand rudimentary Latin and to do figures, in addition to the traditional feminine subjects of etiquette, movement, household management, embroidery and music.
I continued to wander among the dusty tomes, needing some time to think without distraction. I was still unwilling to believe there was a traitor among the Elite Guards, or any of the guards, for that matter, but, as Tadark had said, there seemed to be no other possibility. But how could I doubt any of them? They were my guardians, and I trusted each of them with my life. At the same time, any of them could have accomplished the act, except perhaps for Tadark, who was too loud and foolish to get away with something as clever as this escape had been.
The only other option, one to which I clung desperately, was something Cannan had said after our prisoner’s escape. He had mentioned that the Cokyrians were famous for their stealth and trickery. I hoped that Nantilam’s flight was proof of that and not of a traitor within the royal house.
CHAPTER 6
SECRETS AND REVELATIONS
I NEEDED ADDITIONAL INFORMATION. NOT about the breakout, but about the Cokyrian people. I ran through the list of those who might be able to tell me something, but turned up no one whom I would dare to ask. London would be dubious of my motives and Tadark was unlikely to know anything. I had already solicited Steldor and had no desire to do so again. My father, Cannan and Kade would refuse to tell me anything and would think the request inappropriate. Settling upon a person whose knowledge of the Cokyrian people was uncertain, I walked back to where my bodyguards sat in tense silence—London perched on the deep padded sill of the library’s sun-streaked window and Tadark in a leather armchair.
