Pulling to a stop, the captain ordered the troops to dismount. Azrael was already beside the Queen’s palanquin, offering her arm to the old woman.
Whether real or feigned, Gerina stumbled, grasping the proffered arm tightly. She waved off the captain with a growl. “Alois will help me to my quarters,” she said, her voice rasping.
“Yes, my Queen,” the captain said, lips pressed tightly together. He bowed to Gerina and had the way cleared to the palace doors.
As they entered the palace, Azrael fought the urge to dash off in search of Ursula. It was only mid afternoon, chances were that the brunette was still safe. Shonal was no doubt waiting for his cousin’s arrival.
The number of guards seemed to have driven off many of the courtiers who would normally be hanging about. The few Azrael did see barely had time to pay their respects to the Queen Mother before scurrying off to less restrictive climes.
Gerins’s claw-like hand guided them through the atrium and into a corridor. Every few feet guards were posted, coming to attention as they passed. Azrael knew the way intimately though it had been a few years since her last visit. When her father was alive her family had a suite in the royal wings. Now, however, her ancestral home was not a welcome one.
In deference to security, there were doors instead of curtains. Two Queen’s Guards flanked one, their livery contrasting with the silver and black of Shonal’s men up and down the hall. Both bowed to the queen, one immediately opening the door behind him.
Azrael began to step inside but her aunt paused. Eyes narrowing behind the helm, she wondered if the old woman would raise the alarm. Frankly, she’d been surprised at Gerina’s cooperation. She should have know the queen’s complacency wouldn’t last long in light of her dear son’s peril.
“How are things here, Stefan?” Gerina asked the guard holding the door.
“Well enough, Your Majesty,” Stefan said. “As you can see, the King’s Guard are on alert. We’ve been told to keep an eye open for security breaches. Seems he’s worried his cousin will break her fealty oath.”
Face heating, Azrael stifled a growl, glad of the helm covering her countenance. That she was intending to do just that was almost anathema to her nature. Still, there was only one choice to be had - Shonal would never have Ursula, no matter how much honor and blood Azrael would lose.
Gerina scoffed at the guard. “Azrael break an oath? Hardly. Why would Shonal think that?”
The guard shifted his weight, eyes glancing about as his face flushed. A moment’s thought and he decided in favor of speaking despite his obvious discomfort. After a glance at his companion, Stefan leaned forward and lowered his voice. “It is said that the King has baited his cousin with a woman.”
“A woman?” Gerina looked appropriately shocked and Azrael’s estimation of her grew. “Is there truth in this?”
Another moment of hesitation and the second guard spoke. “Aye, Your Majesty. I saw them bring her in. It was the same woman who was with Duchess Azrael at the dinner last night.”
Frowning, the Queen Mother considered. “Perhaps you should bring her to me. Do you know where she’s being held?”
“She is under guard, Your Majesty,” Stefan said, eyes round. “Probably in the Queen’s quarters. No one but handpicked serving maids are being allowed inside.” He shrugged. “I doubt the King would allow us to bring her.”
Azrael stiffened at the information. As in her villa, the head of the house had one set of rooms while the woman and children had another, both opening onto a common area. Gerina had moved out of those rooms when her husband had died, leaving the quarters available for Shonal’s future wife and queen.
Sensing the tense muscles, Gerina squeezed her niece's arm. “Thank you, Stefan. perhaps I’ll send word to Shonal. Until then, I’m not to be disturbed.” She ignored their acknowledgement of her order and entered her rooms, pulling Azrael with her.
When the doors closed, Gerina cast the dark woman a warning look before retrieving a small silver bell from a nearby table. It’s sweet tones caused three servants to appear, dashing from other parts of the suite to kneel before their mistress.
“Begone, the lot of you,” the queen ordered. “I wish to be alone with my officer and then I plan on taking a nap. I don’t wish to see or hear you until after the evening meal.”
As soon as they were alone, Azrael went to the windows and peered out, pulling the gauntlets from her hands. Outside was a veranda that ran the length of the suite and around the corner. The Queen’s Garden was below and, while empty, the walls above were populated with guards. Azrael shook her head - Shonal even doubled the guard on the inner walls. She wondered if he thought she could fly over them. Grunting is disapproval, she partially closed the curtains and removed the helm.
“And now?” Gerina asked. She was still standing in the entry, hands clasped before her. “You might be in the palace but you still can’t reach your little tart.”
“Don’t ever call her that again,” Azrael snapped, stepping forward.
“Or what? You’ll kill me?” The queen’s laugh was bitter. “Seems the way of your age, doesn’t it?” She ignored Azrael’s threatening posture, hobbling past to pour a glass of wine. “What will you do, Azrael? I can’t get your precious slave from my precious son. He’s only waiting for you, you know.”
Azrael grimaced, looking outside to check the guards once more. “Why did you agree to help me?” she asked, turning back to the old woman. “You profess such love and fear for your son. Surely you know he won’t survive me.”
Gerina laughed again, gleeful cackling that set her niece’s teeth on edge. “Such arrogance! Have you not noticed the guards throughout the palace? You'll never get to the royal chambers!” The laughter caused another round of coughing. Several moments passed before the queen was in control of her voice. “You’re the one who won’t survive here.”
“Perhaps not,” Azrael agreed. “But I will finish what was started today.” She darkened the room by pulling the drapes flush. “Is your wish to be tied on the bed or where you sit?”
Azrael debated the wisdom of waiting until dark or acting now. The Queen Mother was trussed on her bed, gagged to keep her from calling the guards. At the very least it would afford the old woman an opportunity to deny her involvement.
Shonal would expect Azrael to come to the palace as soon as she’d heard of Ursula’s abduction. Time was passing and the longer it took for a response from her, the more suspicious he would become. Azrael had no doubt her cousin would send men to her house when she didn’t arrive without her slave in tow, primarily to make certain she knew he already had her in his possession.
She moved about the sitting room, checking windows for guard placement. Shonal wasn’t a strategist. His actions, while unscrupulous, were aimed at only one outcome - forcing Azrael into action against him. Succeeding, his safest course would be to have her killed or imprisoned. Arrogance, however, was Shonal’s way. He’d much rather gloat at his cousin.
The thought brought Azrael up short. Chances were good that had she marched up to the palace, Shonal would have had her detained and brought before him for entertainment. Azrael wagered her subterfuge was completely unnecessary.
It was too late now. The knowledge gave her an idea, however. She donned the gauntlets and helm once more. What better way to attain Shonal’s goals than to show up at his private quarters?
After informing the Queen’s Guards that Gerina was napping, Azrael marched down the corridor. While Shonal’s men eyed her with suspicion, she wasn’t challenged until she was at his door.
“Hold it, you! No one’s allowed in here but the king,” one of the four guards said.
“I’ve a message for the king from the Queen Mother. Is he here?”
A second guard eyed her. “Why don’t you take off that helmet, man, and we’ll see what the message is.”
Something in his voice alerted the others. They slowly moved away from their posts, hoping to surround the s
tranger. Azrael, expecting she would be discovered by this point, stepped back and pulled her sword, grin hidden behind the helm.
“I don’t think so,” she said.
Her first blow was blocked by the second guard who had drawn his sword simultaneously. As the others armed themselves, calls were heard as sounds of the battle rang against the stone walls. The corridor wasn’t large enough for all four to engage her and, while it deterred tow of them, one was able to slip close. Azrael grunted as a blade slipped past her defenses and thumped hard against her breastplate.
In response, Azrael parried another attack with her sword and kicked out at her second attacker. There was a satisfying crunch and a cry of pain as his knee broke, the guard falling away from the fight.
Booted feet pounded closer and Azrael knew staying in the corridor would mean her death. There were too many of them; they would eventually wear her down. Before another could replace her downed attacker, she laid several sharp blows against her first opponent and pushed across the hall.
The move startled the man. He received a dagger to the ribs and a fell back, his two companions taking his place. Azrael could see more closing in as she defended herself. Hoping that Shonal wasn’t paranoid enough to have guards inside, she managed to wrestle the latch open.
Another series of blows were traded, sweat dripping into Azrael’s eyes as she cursed the ill fitting helmet. She surged forward, gifting one guard with a mortal wound to his throat and pushing another back. As blood sprayed over her, she dived into the king’s quarters, slamming and bolting the door behind her.
The door held firm, shaking under the onslaught of the guards. Azrael took a deep breath and removed her helmet. Turning, she froze, two crossbow bolts inches away from her neck.
“How good of you to join us, Azrael.” Shonal sat in his study, three more guards at attention behind him. “Ursula and I were beginning to despair.”
Azrael watched as her cousin idly stroked the brunette’s hair. Ursula knelt between his legs, amber eyes wide, the pulse in her throat jumping against the edge of the knife held there.
“Now we can begin the festivities.”
Chapter Twenty-two
“Stop this and you’ll live,” Azrael said. Behind her, the rattling door quieted as the men in the hall stopped pounding, the trap closed.
Shonal barked laughter, eyes wide. “In case you haven’t noticed, dear cousin, you’ve two crossbow bolts at your throat. How do you propose to stop me?” He gestured with his free hand and one of the guards edged closer until the bolt dug into Azrael’s flesh.
She refused to respond, dark eyes cold as stone.
“Drop the weapons,” the guard growled.
Ursula shivered as she saw a smile spread across her mistress’ face. It looked very similar to the one on the day they had met. A rush of memory washed over her - the smell of blood and smoke, the screams as the men of her village were impaled. There was no doubt that the room would soon be swimming in blood if that smile was any indication of Azrael’s true feelings. The knife at her throat pressed harder, a trickle of warmth the only indication she’d been cut.
“Do as you’re told!” Shonal said. “Or this sweet morsel will pay.”
Azrael’s smile widened, white teeth flashing, though her eyes did not reflect the humor. “Go ahead,” she answered, letting the sword and dagger clang against the marble floor. “She’s a body slave, one of many I own. She means no more to me than yours do you.”
Shonal grinned, easing back on the blade at the brunette’s throat. “You would have me believe that?” he asked. “After all this trouble? Had you brought young Ursula as ordered, none of this would be happening.”
While the bolt remained against Azrael’s throat, the other crossbowman lowered his weapon. He moved behind her, pulling her arms back with a rough jerk and tying her wrists.
“Shonal,” the woman chided, “You’ve spent your entire life demanding things in my possession. Why would this be different? Can you blame me for getting sick of supplying your entertainment?” Azrael felt a thrill course through her as the guard tied her gauntleted hands. It would be easier to slip the bindings than if he’d bound her bare wrists. There was a chance she could at least get Ursula out of this alive.
The king’s eyes flashed. “So you refuse as a matter of principle?”
“Of course.” The guard finished and Azrael laughed. “Why shouldn’t I? Someone must stand up to you. Stealing from others because you’re lesser than the rest of us gets quite old.”
His smile became wooden as he ground his teeth. “I’m hardly ‘lesser’ than you, dear cousin. I am king, after all. And you are a treasonous bitch who will lose all for a principle.”
“An accident of birth,” Azrael said dismissively. Now that she was safely tied, the crossbow against her throat was removed, the guard stepping away. “As I’ve recently been reminded, I am superior to you in all ways.” She glanced down at Ursula, not allowing her expression to soften. “At least I don’t have to kidnap unwilling bed mates.”
“As you say, she’s only a body servant,” Shonal said, acid in his voice. “She’s trained to be willing.”
Azrael snorted. “Good thing for you, eh? I’d wager the only legitimate offspring you’ll yield will be products of rape.”
His knuckles whitened as he gripped the dagger, unconsciously moving it away from Ursula’s throat. “Do not speak to your liege in this manner,” he growled.
“Or what? You’ll kill a slave?” the bound woman asked. “How … courageous. I’m certain the act will be comforting to your people. Will you kill the slaves of everyone who voices an opinion on your ability to father a child?”
“Be silent!”
Ursula fell to her side as she was pushed away, the king towering over her. Despite the fact Azrael was tied and hadn’t moved, the guards behind him stepped forward, hands on the hilts of their swords. Heart pounding, she watched as her mistress endangered herself, tempted somehow to stop things before they spiraled too far out of control.
Azrael wisely remained mute, though her smile was as wide as ever. The crossbows were back at her neck, pinning her between them as Shonal strode forward and backhanded her. “At least I’ll have children,” he said. “Unless, of course, you’re really a man under that armor. It’s been a topic heavily speculated at court these past years.”
“A better man than you, wouldn’t you say?” Azrael grinned, her neck bleeding where she’d cut it against a bolt. Her lip was swelling but not split. Regardless of the pain, she chuckled at the prominent vein pulsing at her cousin’s temple.
“If you do not shut your mouth, I’ll have you killed!” Shonal yelled.
“Heh … kinslayer. The title suits you, cousin. Perhaps you have some experience?”
The king’s rage dissipated, his dark eyes glancing about the room at his guards. More focused on the prisoner than the chatter, the men failed to note the reference. “Get out,” Shonal ordered, his tone no longer belligerent.
“But, Your Royal Majesty —”
“Get out!”
As his yell echoed off the walls, the guards jumped in surprise before hastily making for the door.
The last one to pass paused a moment. “The slave, my liege?”
“Leave her! Get out of my sight!”
Once the door was closed and the room quiet, Shonal stepped back from Azrael, lip lifted in distaste. He turned away, walking across the room to pour himself a mug of wine from an ewer, setting the knife down.
Azrael watched, pleased to see the cup shaking in his hand. He remained standing with his back to the room, staring out the window. She began to shift the bonds on her wrists, glancing over at Ursula. Her lover had curled up on the floor, amber eyes wide as she watched the king. Azrael would give anything to collect Ursula in her arms but that was impossible. Forcing herself to look away, to lock up her love lest Shonal see and use it against them both, she continued to work on her bonds.
Sev
eral long moments passed as the king finished his wine. With a deep breath, he thumped the mug onto the table, rattling the items there. “What did you mean by your remark?” he asked, lips pursed as he stared at the table top.
“I thought I was rather straight forward,” Azrael said, conversationally. “Kinslaying is something you come to easily, is it not? Or should I say king slaying?”
“You have no proof!” Shonal said, whirling around to glare at her. “Your accusation is meaningless without proof!”
Azrael shrugged, using the movement to get closer to freedom. “You’re right. I don’t. Not with me anyway.”
The man rushed her, eyes flashing. “You’re lying!” he said, voice raised along with his fist.
Though she expected the blow, it stunned her, knocking her to the floor.
“No proof!” Shonal hissed.
Azrael used the fall to fight the ropes at her wrists, her attempts adding to the awkwardness as she struggled to her knees. Rather than remain there before him in a parody of supplication, she forced herself upward. “So it’s true,” she said, her smile awash in blood. “I knew you were a dishonorable thief, cousin, but not a murderer, as well.”
“Silence!” the king roared, sending Azrael to the floor once again. Sweat covered his brow and his eyes flashed.
Grunting in pain, Azrael spit a wad of blood and phlegm onto the floor. She’d be lucky if her cheekbone wasn’t broken; as it was, one of her upper teeth felt loose. She fought to stand, only to be bent double by a kick to her abdomen. Sparks flared at the edges of her vision as he spoke.
“You know nothing of what you say,” Shonal said, face flushed and hands flexing. “My father died in his sleep! No poisons, no struggles! He never even woke up!” He kicked again his cousin for good measure. “The surgeons confirmed it!”
On Azrael's Wings Page 19
