Alvena started, her mind slowly coming to grasp the situation. Ilsevel had a hand to her breast, another on the winding pillar of the bed, her face twisted into one of shock and horror. “Help! The king…!” The queen narrowed her eyes at Alvena and a coldness glinted beneath their mask of pain.
Alvena stumbled back suddenly. ‘How… how could she have…?!’ She choked back her thoughts, desperately turning and fleeing from the room, her bare feet pounding across the stone as she ran. Her body was shivering, but not with cold.
With fear.
She tore down the hallways, their arrays of coloring whipping by in a blur of unrealism. She stumbled, falling before Lardol’s door. ‘Help!’ She scrambled up, pounding frantically against it as she gasped for breath. ‘Help, help, HELP!’
“Alvena?! Sel’ari, child, come in!” the old elf gasped as he swung the door wide. There was no rebuke in his gaze this time, only concern. “What is it?!” He reached down, grabbing her by the shoulders and pulling her up straight.
Alvena shoved his hands aside, stumbling into the room to lean against the wall.
“Why are you crying? What has happened?”
Crying? Alvena reached up, wiping a hand across her cheeks. So she was. She reached out, throwing herself against Lardol’s chest and burying her face into his shoulder. ‘Hairem. Hairem. Hairem!’
Lardol held her for a moment, his hand on the back of her head. “Shhh. Shhh….” He trailed off, no doubt to the sound of the distant clinks of armor and shouts. He pulled her away, turning her chin up and locking eyes firmly with her. “Alvena, what has happened?”
Alvena gasped. She had to get control of herself! Control! She inhaled heavily, his familiar, deep-set blue eyes bringing her some comfort. ‘Hairem…!’ She gestured to her head and then her breasts.
“Ilsevel…?”
She stabbed wildly at the air.
“Ilsevel was stabbed?!” Lardol gasped.
Alvena shook her head violently. She raised her hands, gesturing wildly to her head and then drew her finger across her throat.
“Who is hurt?! The king?!”
Alvena nodded frantically.
“How?!”
Alvena gestured to her head once more and her breasts. Then sliced at Lardol’s throat.
Lardol’s features grew tight, his eyes darkening as he settled on her words. “Ilsevel… murdered Hairem?”
Alvena gripped his shirt tightly and nodded sharply. ‘Hairem…!’ The image of his last look of hollowness… That final desperate attempt to hang on…
“Does anyone know what you saw?” Lardol whispered, darting quickly to the door and turning the key in lock.
Alvena nodded, lips trembling.
They were going to kill her…
Lardol moved back swiftly, grabbing her shoulders. “Ilsevel?”
She nodded again. Why had she…?!
Lardol stood numbly for a moment, his lips parted, eyes wide. A pallor had come over his face and he pressed a hand against the wall as though to balance himself.
There was a sudden array of shouts. Lardol started, his eyes coming to focus back upon her. “Alvena, you must flee. You must flee the city. Flee the country if you can. The queen will find you and—”
There was a sudden knock on the door. “Lardol.”
They froze.
“Lardol!” The knock rang out heavily once more.
Lardol let out sudden, long exhale, gasping in relief. “It is Erallus,” he breathed, moving to unlock the door. He opened it swiftly, grabbing the male outside by the front of his shirt and jerking him into the room before the soldier had a moment to gather himself.
Lardol closed the door swiftly behind them and turned the key. “Erallus—”
Erallus’ bright eyes widened even as his arched brows knit in focus. There was heavy pain behind them as he surveyed Alvena. “Hairem has killed himself after hearing about General Jikun’s defeat at the hands of—”
“No,” Lardol spoke solidly with an unsteady shake of his head. “Ilsevel has murdered the king. Alvena has seen it.” He moved quickly to his chest of drawers as Erallus grasped for words. His hand shook slightly as he opened the topmost drawer, producing a sheathed dagger. “And Ilsevel knows it.”
Erallus’ eyes locked onto Alvena, his lips parting in dread. She could see the shock and horror written plainly in his eyes, the disbelief he too attempted to understand. Beneath those roiling emotions, even the visibility of pain was dimmed. “No…”
“Yes,” Lardol replied, shoving the dagger into Alvena’s hands.
She fumbled to hold onto it as he jerked away. As she looked up at the king’s high servant, a new flood of emotion crashed through her. For all Lardol had ever yelled at her and ordered her around, he did not doubt her now, even for a moment.
“The queen demanded that Alvena be brought to her. I—” Erallus began.
Lardol cut off Erallus’ words with a firm, dark glance. Alvena could see Erallus pale. “Yes, Erallus,” Lardol spoke. “Hairem’s will. Ilsevel is no doubt aware that you and I know of it. As well as the council. Perhaps you could find refuge if you went before them… but Nilanis is Ilsevel’s father and the El’adorium. They would never believe that Ilsevel killed Hairem. And I do not believe Nilanis would let you usurp the power of his daughter… as true as your claim may be.”
Erallus put a hand against the wall. “Gods. I never thought for a moment that it would come to pass…!”
Lardol turned to Alvena, clearly reading the confusion written across her face. Still, Lardol offered her no details. “First, Alvena must flee the city. Flee the country if at all possible,” Lardol replied, hurrying back to his drawers. His movement was growing steadier, perhaps due to the urgency of the moment. He reached deep into the back of one of the drawers and pulled out a small bag that jingled softly with the sound of coins.
Erallus stepped toward the door, pressing his ear against it. He pulled away. “I am not the only one ordered to find her, Lardol. There are others…”
Lardol grabbed a pair of his shoes, forcing Alvena to sit. Her mind felt overwhelmed as he pushed her feet into them. She looked down. They were far too large. Lardol carried on without pause. He pulled off his shirt, ripping the sleeves from it.
“We have to get her away from the queen,” Lardol spoke as he tied his shoes firmly to her tiny feet with the sleeves.
Erallus nodded immediately in agreement. There was a tumult of pain in his expression and Alvena knew he still struggled to grasp the reality of the situation. As even she did. “…How?” Erallus replied.
Lardol stood, yanking Alvena to her feet. “She must go. Not by water—Nilanis may be involved. The ports are too dangerous. Not by bridge—she’ll never escape unnoticed. There must be another way out of the city.”
Erallus’ eyes lit up. “Sellemar.”
Alvena looked up sharply. ‘Sellemar…?’ She knew that name. He was the male from the city the day Hairem had asked her to deliver flowers to… Ilsevel….
There was another knock on the door. “Lardol? Is Alvena in here?”
Erallus moved forward swiftly, pulling Alvena aside to stand behind where the door would open.
Lardol took a deep breath and straightened his shoulders. Color had mostly returned to his cheeks. He calmly opened his drawers for a shirt, pulling it on as he replied, “Alvena? No. Why? What has she done this time?”
“Lardol, I have orders to search the room. I apologize. Please open the door.”
Lardol gave a loud sigh. “I just got out of the bath. You will have to wait a moment.” He looked back at them, gesturing toward the balcony.
Alvena found herself being pulled swiftly away toward the doors and out into the cold night. The breeze bit at her legs beneath her thin dress. She looked out, her eyes filling with dread.
The city seemed small below them, the palace grounds a distant toy. ‘Where do we go?’ she thought desperately, looking back at Hairem’s guard. They were not like
the human assassin—they couldn’t just vanish like that!
The soldier leaned over the side, looking down tentatively. “It’s about twenty feet to the next balcony. Alvena, can you do it?”
Alvena stared back at him. Twenty feet?! She clasped her hands together.
“Alvena!” Erallus whispered firmly.
She started as a knock rang out behind them.
“Lardol, open the door or I will be forced to knock it down!”
Alvena hurried to the side of the balcony and looked over the edge. Directly below the balcony, twenty feet down, was another. Her heart skipped a beat. How could they?! She turned back to find that Erallus had reappeared at her side, a sheet in his hand.
“Hang on to this. I will lower you down as far as I can. Then you will have to swing yourself toward it and let go.”
Alvena’s grip on her hands grew painful. Gods, she was just a handmaid!
“Land on the balls of your feet. Bend your legs a little. Go!” Erallus whispered.
The door behind them shook.
Alvena grabbed the sheet, her hands sweating and trembling against the soft, silken fabric. She forced her grip to tighten, biting her lip forcefully. ‘You can do this. You have to do this,’ she told herself. She stepped over the railing of the balcony and inched away from the side. She forced herself to focus on the wall of the palace as she dangled in the air. Even the gentle swinging tied her stomach into knots. She could hear Erallus grunt above her as he lowered the sheet down. Slowly, the balcony vanished and the lower platform loomed a bit closer.
“Now,” Erallus grunted.
Alvena rocked her body gradually until the sheet swung out over the second balcony. With an internal shriek, she released it, her heart pounding, the wind rushing quickly past her ears, and landed with a thud onto the balcony below. Her ankles and feet stung as pain shot up her legs.
She looked up, eyes widening. How was Erallus…?
The male appeared suddenly over the side, dropping along the bars of the balcony to grope along the edge of the marble surface. He swung himself forward slightly, releasing as he moved, and landed with a thud beside her, his chainmail jangling loudly as the little links rattled against one another.
There was a loud argument above them as Erallus straightened with a grimace. “Let’s go.” He pushed aside the emerald curtain a crack, moving with a faint limp. But there was no stopping now.
The room before them was dark inside. Erallus stepped forward through its vast exterior to the other side. He neither glanced back toward her nor spoke, and when he reached the other side, he opened the door and peered out into the hallway.
But Alvena was right behind him. Through that narrow gap of light, she caught sight of the wide, dimly lit corridor outside—it was empty and silent, in sharp contrast to what was happening just one floor above them.
“Clear,” Erallus assured her after a moment of careful consideration. “Come.”
Alvena had only a brief time to consider what would happen to Lardol if it was discovered that he had helped her. ‘Sel’ari, please keep Lardol safe!’ she begged.
Word of Ilsevel’s demands seemed to have not reached the lower floors. And neither had Hairem’s death. Erallus and Alvena made a swift flight from the palace and out onto the grounds with hardly another elf in sight. The evening had grown late and most of the servants and guards had retired for the evening.
A sudden pain filled her as she realized that it was the last time she would ever set foot in her home. That she would again see any of them. She glanced back once at the magnificently carved stone doors, now closed and dark.
She drew her attention back to the male beside her, his focus intense as he advanced. Outside the palace doors, Erallus did not hesitate. He slowed to a casual but steady pace, moving and passing through the gates with a polite smile and nod of his head. Never before had the expanse between them felt so narrow. He eyed Alvena silently, as though ordering her to stay close.
“Alvena, aren’t you dressed a little—” one of the soldiers began in rebuke.
“I am taking care of the situation,” Erallus replied sharply, cutting the soldier off.
They fell silent.
The moment they were out of sight, Erallus stepped into an alleyway and rushed to the nearest sewer lid. “Be quick. These lead to the old Rilden Estate. Come. It is our best chance of escape without being spotted.”
Alvena didn’t need an explanation. She didn’t have a choice. She watched as he pulled the sewer lid up with a grunt and slid it to the side. A thick darkness lay within, the ray of moonlight hardly reaching even the cobbled stones of the alley around them. She took a deep breath and then climbed down into the darkness below. Landing with a light splash, she stepped aside and looked up expectantly. The stars vanished as the male descended behind her and slid the lid back over the hole.
The world was almost completely black around them. A very faint light in the distance pointed them to the next sewer drain. Erallus extended a hand and found hers, placing it against his back. “Run your hand along the wall and keep one on the back of my shirt. Follow me,” he ordered as he began to move swiftly through the sewers. “You cannot leave by water—Ilsevel’s father controls the Port of Targados. And the city guard has been under Ilsevel’s control since the wedding. I would not take our chances there, either. This male, Sellemar, however, may be able to help you.”
Sellemar… who was he and how did they know him? But the wonder faded quickly as the cold water seeped into her shoes and the echoes of their breathing and footsteps were the only sounds around them. It was a lonely, unreal world… where Hairem was dead and she fled for her life. They moved steadily, twisting and winding their way through the darkness.
“Here is the entrance to the Rilden Estate,” Erallus finally spoke after what seemed like hours. He slowed in the darkness, his fingernails scraping across the stone. “Ah, the ladder is here. Up.”
Alvena felt hands grip her own and place them on the slippery algae coating of the metal.
She was really fleeing…
She stepped up, dragging her cold feet onto each rung, and pushed against the trapdoor above them when she reached the top. It fell back with a loud clang and she started, nearly slipping on her hold. Erallus’ hand steadied her from below and she swiftly pulled herself from the hole before her lack of balance cost her in a fall.
Her gaze rose to the surface around her. The moonlight fell through the broken stones and small windows, glaring fiercely across the fallen beams and dried leaves. The place was a small room of endless darkness above her; it seemed long-since abandoned, decaying and sinking into ruin.
This was where Sellemar lived?
Erallus closed the door behind them, darting toward a nearby door in a state of urgency that Alvena has almost forgotten in her confusion. She hurried after him, nearly tripping over a pile of shattered rocks nearby.
This was the great Rilden Estate that had once housed the True Bloods’ closest relatives? Even though it was merely a watchtower, she was shocked to see its neglect.
Outside the tower, the ancient tree limbs swayed in the breeze and the moonlight lit their way through the shadows like a path from the goddess. They moved swiftly through the ancient orchard, the wind howling fiercely through the canyon behind them. And before them was the old Rilden Estate.
Erallus drew up breathless before the door, pounding loudly on the wood with his great fist. Alvena stepped back, seeing a candle flicker to life slowly from an upstairs window.
‘He’s home!’ she breathed in relief.
The door swung wide a minute later and a flicker of emerald gazed warily back at them. “Erallus,” the familiar face greeted slowly. He turned, eyes meeting with Alvena’s in slow recognition. “You…”
Erallus pushed past him, forcing the door closed behind. “This is Alvena,” he began as Sellemar opened his mouth to protest. “There is no time for details. Ilsevel has murdered King Hairem. Alvena is a w
itness. She must be out of the city tonight. Ilsevel’s father owns the port, and Ilsevel herself has had control of the city guard since the marriage. Sellemar, I pray you know of another way out of this city!”
“Damn,” Sellemar muttered with a grunt, even as he moved instantly away toward a back room. “Stay here.”
Alvena looked about nervously. What did they know of this male? How could he know of another way out of the city? Impossible! The city was on a cliff with the lake to the east and an endless drop to the north, south, and west. Elvorium was impenetrable and inescapable!
Sellemar emerged a minute later with a sack, his motion flawlessly focused as he lowered the candle to a nearby table. “Do you know why the Rilden Estate was such a valuable piece of property?” He tossed Erallus the sack and swung about once more. “That is for Alvena,” he added briefly, moving through the entryway and into a long hallway beyond. “I doubt your king knew. The king’s brother—or sister—always possessed this place until Silandrus and his sons left—at Sairel’s appointment, it would have been given into the hands of Darcarus. Its value was immeasurable: only the palace and the Rilden Estate held entryways to the True Blood tunnels out of the capital, the former of which was sealed three centuries ago.”
‘True Blood tunnels?’ Alvena had never heard of them. But another way out of the city…? She looked toward Erallus, who nodded his understanding.
“And you know where they both are.”
Sellemar nodded. “Of course. It should not surprise you by now.”
“I don’t know who you are, and yet, it doesn’t.”
Alvena looked from one male to the other. They seemed quite familiar. Yet Sellemar had claimed to be new to the city when he had met her.
She paused, eyes widening. Wait. Was this the other soldier who had rescued Ilsevel with Erallus? She bit her lip. If only they had failed! How foolish she had been to thank Sel’ari for their success! Now…! Her mind felt jumbled, every bit of her thoughts trying to work their way back to what she had seen… Back to Hairem’s dying moments.
No, she didn’t want to see that again!
“Erallus, what will you do?” Sellemar was asking as he placed a hand onto the wall and ran it down to the marble tiles below. He pressed his fingers against one, speaking in the ancient elven tongue, “Ha revas?”
Kings or Pawns (Steps of Power 1) Page 42
