by JA Andrews
Milly and Brandson both smiled stiffly.
“This is Brandson and Milly, blacksmith and milkmaid from the village of Kordan’s Blight.”
Queen Saren nodded to them. “Companions of Alaric are always welcome. My house is at your disposal.”
At that moment, the door behind them flung open, and a tall, angular man strode into the room. The queen’s eyes went flat, and the man, taking in the group before her, drew up short. A flicker of irritation crossed his face before he tossed off a bow so shallow it was barely a bob of his head.
Saren’s smile grew icy.
“My apologies, Your Majesty,” he said, striding forward to stand a step ahead of Alaric without glancing at him. “I didn’t realize there would be guests at our discussion.”
The man’s fingers were weighted down with gold rings. A thick gold chain hung around his neck holding a ponderous disc printed with the seal of the Black Hills. He was a hand taller than Alaric, and he used his height to tower over the queen. He must be the son of the Black Hills duke who had governed when Alaric had been at court. Although no older than thirty, this man’s face was already carved with arrogance.
The smile fell off her face completely as Saren lifted her chin to look the man in the eye.
“Duke Thornton,” she began, “we’ve been honored this afternoon with important guests. We’ll have to postpone our discussion until a later date.”
Thornton kept his eyes on the queen, “Your Majesty, I’m afraid I have other obligations at a later date.”
A surge of anger rolled through Alaric at the duke’s arrogance. He stepped forward, positioning himself alongside Saren, facing the man.
The duke flicked an unconcerned glance at Alaric, then returned it to Saren.
“You’re too new to court to recognize our guest, Thornton, so I’m sure he’ll excuse your rudeness.” Saren set her hand on Alaric’s arm. “Allow me to introduce Keeper Alaric to you.”
Alaric put on a courteous smile.
The duke stiffened and turned toward Alaric. He took in the Keeper’s worn travel clothes with a slight raise of his brow. His expression remained haughty, and he gave the slightest nod in acknowledgment. “I didn’t realize a Keeper was needed at court any longer.”
Alaric didn’t have to look down to know what he looked like. He wasn’t even wearing his blackish robe any longer. His smile soured.
Saren’s face took on a decidedly dangerous look. “There are many people at court who aren’t needed, but a Keeper is not one of them. We’ll find another time to have that discussion you were looking for. A time when Alaric is available as well.” She turned away from Thornton and back toward the others.
The duke gave her a stony glare. He turned it on Alaric for a long moment before striding out of the room.
Saren watched the duke leave with a troubled expression settling on her face. “Alaric, there are a few problems I could use your assistance with.”
“Speaking of problems,” Alaric said, glancing at Douglon, “we brought one with us.”
The queen gave a tired sigh. “Of course you did.”
Chapter 26
“Not just a problem, then.” Saren frowned after Alaric explained the issue. “A problem with the dwarves, who are notoriously stubborn.”
Douglon’s brow creased.
“Don’t scowl,” Ayda whispered loudly to him. “It makes you look stubborn.”
Saren gave Ayda a weak smile. “I’ll talk to Menwoth.”
“It might take more than that,” Alaric said. “If Douglon isn’t arrested, Menwoth has threatened to tell Horgoth that you shelter those bent on his overthrow.”
“Menwoth did all this? He’s usually so reserved.”
“He has a special place in his heart for me, Your Highness,” Douglon said. “I am closer to the throne than he is, and he feels that he deserves my place. In truth, he does. Menwoth has been working to make himself useful to the crown his entire life. I avoid the throne room like quicksand for fear it’ll suck me in and force me to do something royal.”
Saren narrowed her eyes. “Are you the dwarf who lined Horgoth’s crown with lead before his coronation?”
Douglon laughed. “His head kept tipping to the side. He’d never worn the crown before, so he didn’t know anything was wrong.”
Saren allowed a small smile but shook her head. “This will definitely take more than a word from me to fix.”
“Douglon is innocent, Your Majesty,” Alaric said. “He can’t be arrested.”
Saren turned to the captain who still stood by the door. “Why hasn’t he been arrested?”
“With Keeper Alaric and Ambassador Menwoth disagreeing, my lieutenant thought it best that you make the decision regarding his arrest.”
The queen scowled at Douglon. “Menwoth will feel insulted. It might have made things easier if you’d just let him arrest you.”
“I’m not keen on entering a dungeon, Your Majesty,” Douglon said. “More people go into them than come out.”
Saren shook her head. “The whole reason Menwoth is here is so we can reach some trade agreements with King Horgoth. It won’t help anything if I harbor a dwarf they think is a traitor. Douglon is Horgoth’s subject. I’m not willing to strain relations with Duncave over this. “
Douglon let out a low growl, and Alaric laid a hand on his shoulder.
Alaric said, “I assure you, Your Majesty, Douglon is not a traitor. A misunderstanding between him and his cousin Patlon was… misconstrued by King Horgoth. The matter is being cleared up as we speak.”
“It will be your word against a royal decree from Horgoth. Your word won’t be enough for Menwoth,” Saren said. “The dwarves have no regard for Keepers. You are just another human to him. I would have to offer the ambassador something very valuable to get him to forget about this whole affair. Now that I realize who you are, Douglon, even that might not be enough. The hatred between you and Menwoth is almost legendary.”
“I’m beginning to see that,” Alaric said. “Douglon’s problems often have a root in his personal relationships.”
The dwarf had the decency to drop his eyes.
Saren rubbed the end of her braid while she contemplated Douglon. It was such a familiar motion that Alaric smiled. When she had first married Kendren, it had been her nervous habit, running her thumb down to the end of her braid while she tried to answer questions posed by the people who had intimidated her. But now, the motion was slow and calculating as she contemplated the problem before her.
Her eyes flicked to Alaric, and irritation flashed across her face. “What are you smiling about?”
Alaric smiled more broadly. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“It would be nicer if you hadn’t brought problems with you.” A small smile crept into her eyes, despite her sharp voice.
Alaric’s smile faded. “This thing with Menwoth is nothing. We have a great deal to talk about. Urgently.”
Saren’s shoulders drooped, and she gave Alaric a tired look. “One problem at a time, please. Let’s take care of this, and then I will clear my afternoon.” She turned back to Douglon. “What if we took the question out of Menwoth’s hands? Nurthrum arrives from Duncave sometime today for an annual discussion of our relationship with King Horgoth. He outranks Menwoth, doesn’t he?”
Douglon considered for a moment. “Not officially, but Nurthrum is older than the mountains. Menwoth would feel compelled to respect his decision.”
“And would Nurthrum consider you a traitor?”
“He’s got a clear head and can be reasoned with. I could convince him it’s all a mistake.”
Saren nodded. “Then until we can talk to him, you are officially my guest. I will hear grievances between you and Menwoth, and we’ll make sure Nurthrum is present as well.” She looked at the dwarf sternly. “Until then, do not leave the palace. Unless you want all of my resources, as well as Horgoth’s, tracking you down.”
Douglon grumbled something into hi
s beard, but gave her a reluctant nod.
Saren let out a long breath. “Good. Alaric, there is a small council meeting tonight. Since you’re finally back, I think I’ll make it a full council. It will be a good way to get you up to speed.”
“Your Majesty,” Alaric said, “we’re leaving at dawn.”
Saren’s eyebrows shot up. “Leaving? You just arrived.”
“We were just passing through Queenstown. This thing with Douglon is the only reason we stopped.”
Saren studied Alaric, her eyes hard. “Well, it’s good to know that military force will bring you back.”
“You will understand my need for haste once I explain to you what’s going on.”
“I expect an explanation of many things,” she said curtly. “First, there are things that require my attention this afternoon. Let me take care of those, and I will send for you afterward.”
She rang a bell on the table, and a smartly dressed steward entered the room.
“Send word to my full council that we meet tonight. And see our guests to their rooms so they can change. Alaric, I’ll send for you shortly.”
The steward bowed and turned to lead them from the room.
Alaric bowed, frustration gnawing at him. Outside, he could still hear the thrumming of the rain. Even if he could get everyone out of the palace, this storm would make any progress slow. He resigned himself to an afternoon and evening of plodding through the cumbersome workings of palace life.
Alaric’s feet could have found his room by themselves. At the end of a long hall of apartments and separated from them by a wide-open room with chairs and a large fireplace, a black door greeted him. This apartment had been his home for the eight years he had lived in Queenstown, advising first King Kendren, then his widowed queen.
Alaric stepped in to find it unchanged. Bookshelves dotted the room, shelves of scrolled maps filled one corner, and there were at least a half-dozen small tables and desks scattered around the large room. The doorway to the bedroom opened in the wall to his right.
He walked along in front of the bookshelf, running his hands over the spines of the books like greeting old friends. At the door to the balcony, he watched the rain pour down into the garden. Everything outside was too large, as altered as any garden would be after an absence of a couple of years. Alaric felt the time wash over him. The man who had lived here before had been so sure of everything, so confident in his place, his beliefs. Now, he felt more like one of the leaves careening by, tossed by the wind and battered down by the rain.
He washed and changed into clothes waiting in the room for him before he returned to the window. Across the courtyard, a student of the apothecary hurried out of Ewan’s quarters, ducking through the rain. Alaric’s hand went absently to the pouch hanging at his chest. His fingers rubbed the stone through the worn leather bag.
He thought about going over there now, but knowing Saren would call him soon, he turned his back on the window and began to pace the room. A polite knock sounded, and he opened the door to the queen’s grey-haired steward.
“Is the room acceptable, Keeper Alaric? If it doesn’t suit you, we can find you another.”
“No, Matthew,” Alaric said, smiling at the man, “the room is perfect, just as it was when I left. If anything has changed, it has been myself.”
“Her Majesty is pleased that you are back.”
Alaric shook his head. “I’m not sure she’s entirely pleased.” Alaric looked around the room. It was exactly how he had left it. “I thought they would send another Keeper.”
“As did Her Majesty.”
Alaric sank down into the nearest chair. Of course the queen’s last years had been hard. She had relied on Alaric heavily. And he had still left.
“Everyone has felt the absence of a Keeper. Having one here gives us all hope.” Matthew bowed and left.
Alaric stared at the closed door for a long time.
Chapter 27
An hour later, Alaric followed a messenger all the way through the palace to the royal apartments where he found the queen reading at an immense wooden desk. The room smelled of blackberry tart and fresh bread.
“Alaric,” she greeted him with an apologetic smile. She motioned him toward a table set with bread, fruit, and two enormous servings of tart. “Come eat, old friend. Let’s start over, shall we?”
Alaric made her a bow, but she waved it away as she sat and began to serve herself. Alaric joined her, realizing how hungry he was.
“I see you have been well, Your Majesty.”
The smile she gave had a hint of steel behind it. “I know you didn’t plan it, but your return to the palace is timely. Some members of the council at tonight’s meeting may find the presence of a Keeper at court to be detrimental to their plans.”
So much for easing into the role of Keeper again. Alaric tore off a piece of bread. “I doubt my presence will make much difference. I am too out of touch with what is going on.”
“Of course it will make a difference. By now, rumors of your presence have spread throughout the palace.” Saren took a slow, savoring bite of tart. “The winds are changing already.”
Her face was different than Alaric remembered. There was less youth and gentleness. Saren hadn’t been ready for the throne when Kendren died. She had been raised the daughter of a noble family, one that spent little time at court. King Kendren had married her because she was kind and good and honest—too much of all these things to naturally take to the political games played around her.
“I’m sorry I left for so long,” Alaric said.
Saren let his worlds hang in the air for a moment.
“Come now, Alaric,” she said, an edge to her voice. “It’s been two years. Where have you been?”
“When I left you to see if the nomads were allying themselves with the southern kingdoms, I had every intention of returning here when I was done. It took almost a year, but I found the rumors to be groundless.
“I didn’t come back because on my way south, I met a woman.”
The queen’s eyebrow shot up. “A woman worth keeping you from returning to your queen?”
Alaric let the obvious answer speak for itself.
“Send for her.”
Alaric flinched at the note of command. It was going to be hard to get used to being ordered about again. He took a deep breath to push down the irritation. “She’s not here.”
There was a long pause. Saren’s eyes narrowed as she waited for him to continue.
“Her name is Evangeline. She was an innkeeper before she traveled with me.” Alaric’s throat tightened. “She’s not here because she’s dying. She was poisoned. She is… asleep while I search for the antidote.”
Alaric looked at the bread in his hands. Across the table, Saren did not move.
“I have slowed the spread of the poison, but it is not stopped. It will take a long time, but it will kill her.” Alaric met the queen’s gaze, seeing the sympathy there. “That’s where I’ve been. Searching through every corner of the world for an antidote, crawling through the darkest pits of humanity in search of anything that would help me.”
The queen spun her wedding ring around her finger. “I often wondered, while Kendren was dying, if all the waiting and hoping and dreading was worse than the death would ever be.” She didn’t look at Alaric. “It turns out neither is better than the other. Mourning is just a continuation of the same dreadful waiting. Except now, I’m waiting for something that will never come.”
Alaric looked at her, remembering when her hair was still brown, her eyes still young. “I think of your husband often. While searching for an antidote for Evangeline, I often found myself searching for an antidote that might have helped him, too, wondering if there was something else we could have done to save him.”
She shook her head. “Such questions lead to madness. Kendren’s wounds were not the kind that could be healed.” She took a deep breath. “It is so good to see you, Alaric. The last time I saw a Keep
er was when Will was here. That was not long after you left.
“His visit was over my birthday feast. Will treated us to stories three nights in a row.” She shook her head and smiled. “I can still see the tales in my mind. Three old tales: Tomkin and the Dragon, The Fall of kin Elenned, and Mylen the Destroyer. That man can tell stories better than anyone I’ve ever heard.”
Alaric smiled. “He could leave me breathless just telling me what was for dinner.”
“He delayed his departure in the hope you would return.”
Alaric felt a jab of guilt. Another person he’d let down. He picked up a small blueberry and rolled it between his fingers. “The last I knew, Will had gone to look for the elves. Evangeline and I were close to the Greenwood on the way back here when I decided to go look for him.
“We had been catching glimpses of the Lumen Greenwood whenever we crested a hill, and she had been giddy a the sight. We reached a village that had been plagued by a fire lizard.” Alaric let the story spill out, telling her of the fire lizard and the arrow.
“I didn’t know the villagers had poisoned their arrows.” He raised his eyes to Saren. “They were all killed by the fire lizard. They hadn’t told me.”
Alaric looked at the table, the grain in the wood echoing the red lines that had wound their way up Evangeline’s leg. “It took more than a day for any sign of the poison to appear. By that time…”
“I took her west, into the Scale Mountains to one of the deserted small keeps. I created a chamber around her, but even that does not stop the poison.”
“I doubt there’s anything in our own records that you don’t already know about, but now that you’re back, the entire library is at your disposal, of course. And anything else I can offer. Anything at all.”
Alaric shook his head. “As I mentioned earlier, I’m not really back. I need to leave. The sooner the better.”
