“I’m so glad you accept me as a cousin,” she continued in a tender tone. “Arandar’s letter said you would.”
Stavin bowed slightly. “Lord Arandar was the one who started calling me ‘cousin’, and by the time I left almost all of the Zel’Anistons and Kel’Anistons were calling me that. The ones who spoke to me at least. Too many of them just bowed and stayed silent.”
“What of the lower castes?”
Stavin rolled his eyes and grinned. “Lady Sahrana would have popped her cork.”
That reduced Princess Alankira to incoherent giggles for a moment. “Aunt Sahra has a very ‘proper’ attitude toward the lower castes. But I get the impression you don’t.”
“I grew up a warrior, and spent my first years out of the valley surrounded by members of every caste. I’m used to them.”
Princess Alankira grinned and wrinkled her nose. “Daddy let me be friends with whoever I wanted. My best friend when I was growing up was Mardis Del’Kerval.”
Stavin laughed. “And where is she now?”
“Married to a farmer. She has nine kids.”
Stavin laughed again. “That’ll keep her busy.”
Princess Alankira nodded. “Her oldest is two years older than Mari, and her youngest is two years younger than Daran. We’ve kept in touch, though we haven’t been together in seventeen years. Alred and Tana aren’t as tolerant as mom and dad.”
“Kalin isn’t either,” Stavin grumbled.
“Speaking of Alred, here he comes,” Princess Alankira whispered, and Stavin turned to find the king and queen walking toward him.
Stavin bowed deeply when the royal couple was three paces away. “Good evening, Your Majesties.”
King Alred bowed his head slightly and replied, “Good evening, Prince Stavin.”
Queen Alantana wasn’t so formal. “You two seemed to be having an amusing conversation,” she said, focusing her attention on Princess Alankira.
“Cousin Stavin and I were just comparing notes about our younger years, before we became part of the royal families.”
King Alred tilted his head to the side as he looked at Stavin. “Cousin Stavin, is it? Sahrana Zel’Aniston’s influence?” he asked, looking Stavin in the eye.
Stavin grinned and bowed slightly. “Not at first, Your Majesty. Arandar Zel’Aniston started it, then Mariniva. Lady Sahrana joined in when she finally got over the shock of hearing Mariniva address me as ‘cousin’ at the morning meal.”
The king tilted his head to the side and grinned at Princess Alankira. “Your aunt’s family has never been proper.”
Princess Alankira giggled while Stavin said, “Your Majesty, I believe they’d take that as a compliment.”
“Probably,” the king replied with a laugh.
“Definitely,” Lady Ava said as she stopped beside her brother. “Sahra was absolutely outrageous when we were children.”
“You were just as bad,” her big brother commented sourly.
Lady Ava just grinned up at him for an instant, then turned her attention back to Stavin. “What do you think?” she asked as she waved toward the room.
“Magnificent. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
King Alred bowed his head slightly. “Thank you, Prince Stavin. My staff has been planning this since we first received notice that you were coming.”
“Your Majesty, I am truly impressed,” Stavin said with a bow. “You’ve far outdone both Coravia and Luxandia.”
“Really?” Queen Alantana asked with a bright smile. “But you were Coravia’s king for a time. Didn’t they honor you with a celebration?”
Stavin smiled as he bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty, they did. But compared to this,” he paused to wave his hand at the room in general, “it was almost subdued. Whoever planned these decorations is very talented and has exquisite taste.”
Princess Alankira hugged Stavin’s arm and said, “Please tell Killian that when he arrives. He is our designer. With a little help from his girlfriend.” Stavin smiled up at her and nodded. It wasn’t long before the younger royals joined them and Stavin was able to repeat his compliment directly to the younger prince.
Prince Killian flushed with pride and bowed deeply. “Thank you, Prince Stavin. Sahren and I spent several days drawing out and trying different designs for this celebration.”
Stavin grinned. “Your girlfriend is named Sahren, after the goddess?”
Prince Killian bowed slightly and replied, “Yes,” in a cautious tone.
Stavin grinned as he said, “So is my oldest daughter, in an indirect way.”
“Really?” the prince asked with a wide grin.
“In an indirect way, yes,” Stavin responded with an equally wide grin. “Sahren is the older of my twins by about half a span. Sahry was named after Master Trader Sahren Kel’Vandar of the Kavadian House of Zel’Vandar. Master Trader Sahren led my first two caravans, and mentored me in Trade when I showed an interest. Master Sahren was named for the Goddess Sahren. Her worship is dominant in that portion of Kavadia.”
“I didn’t know that,” King Alred rumbled. “What does Arandar think of Lady Sahren?”
Stavin shrugged. “As far as I’ve been able to tell, Your Majesty, He doesn’t. Where the mention of the other Elder Gods elicits a response, positive or negative, Sahren, Lebawan, and the other younger gods seem to be meaningless to Him.”
The king grinned and murmured, “I wish my brother had heard that.”
Queen Alantana chuckled, “You can tell him later. Now you have a celebration to preside over.”
“Indeed,” the king agreed, then motioned toward the table. “Shall we?”
Stavin was again at the king’s right hand, and the rest of the people in the room quickly moved to their seats when they saw the royal family take their places. When most of the people were in their places, the king sat.
Stavin was amused to see Lady Servallan striding across the room, very conspicuously late. Prince Jerlan saw the direction of his gaze and chuckled.
“She does draw the eye, doesn’t she?”
“As she no doubt intended,” Stavin muttered.
“What do you mean?”
Stavin looked the older prince in the eye as he said, “She’s been drifting around the room since before we arrived, and I saw her near her seat a moment ago. She was intentionally one of the last nobles to take her seat.”
Prince Jerlan tilted his head to the side as he asked, “Why?”
Stavin nodded toward the room. “To draw attention to herself. She’s like a Dariman bird.” When the prince looked puzzled he explained, “The Dariman bird is native to Evandia’s south-western coast. Where the peacock male is the fancy one, it’s the Dariman female that shows off. They’re usually red, orange, and gold, and make a spectacle of themselves when they are trying to attract a mate.”
“We have another name for women like that, Cousin Stavin,” Princess Alankira said in an angry tone around the crown prince. Looking at her husband she continued, “As for you, eyes front.” Prince Jerlan smiled sheepishly, but his eyes focused elsewhere.
There was a sound from Stavin’s other side, but when he looked around he couldn’t tell which of the elders had made it.
Queen Alantana smiled at Stavin and whispered, “I’m glad you see her for what she really is.”
Stavin’s smile twisted bitterly for an instant before he replied, “There’s one in every court, Your Majesty. Seldom more, though. They can’t tolerate their own kind.” There was a strangled sound from beside him and he caught the king laughing into his wine.
“Absolutely true, Stavin. Absolutely true.”
The feast was exceptionally good, though Stavin limited how much he ate. And how much he drank. Wine had never been his first choice, but he wasn’t going to be plebeian and ask for beer.
Along with the food was a wide assortment of entertainments. Minstrels strolled through the room playing and singing softly. Jugglers, dancers, and gymnasts gamboled between the tables. And between t
hem all were servants making sure no one went thirsty.
Stavin made a pretense of drinking as much as Prince Jerlan, getting his cup refilled every time the prince did. The difference was that Stavin seldom needed more than a splash of wine to top off his cup. Prince Jerlan, on the other hand, was usually close to dry by the time the servant came to his side again.
Stavin was caught off guard by a minstrel playing a new song about him and Arandar’s Blessing. His cheeks and ears reddened as he flushed with embarrassment. A chuckle drew his attention to the king.
“That girl has talent,” the king rumbled.
Stavin bowed his head and replied, “Indeed, Your Majesty. And quite an imagination as well. None of that happened.”
The king chuckled. “Songs don’t have to be true, my boy, just pleasing to the ear.”
Stavin bowed his head as if to acknowledge the king’s point, but he was actually hiding his shock. Even Kalin never called him a boy. Then he noticed the king’s slurred speech and realized that King Alred was quite drunk.
The queen caught the wine steward’s eye and raised two fingers. The man bowed slightly and turned away. When he turned back he gave a different pitcher to the woman serving the royal table. The king’s food taster approved the wine, then the king’s glass was refilled.
King Alred didn’t notice, but Stavin saw the pleased grin on the queen’s face. She caught his gaze and bowed her head slightly, then touched a finger to her lips. Her grin never dimmed, though, so Stavin just bowed his head in return.
The evening wore on, but Stavin’s suspicion remained. When the king left for a trip to the necessary, Stavin looked a question at the queen.
She leaned toward him and whispered, “It’s been heated and most of the alcohol removed. By now he can’t taste the difference, and it allows him to carouse the whole evening away without falling out of his chair.”
Stavin was caught between outrage and amusement, but the humor of the queen diluting the king’s wine so he could continue drinking all night won out. He bowed his head deeply, then sat back without saying a word. But he just couldn’t stop grinning.
The night grew late, and the celebration had begun to slow down when two lords stood and started toward the royal table. Stavin couldn’t understand why the Royal Guards allowed them to approach, and he looked at the king for an answer.
No one at the royal table seemed to even notice them.
Stavin looked up at Karvik, but even he seemed oblivious to the disturbance. Stavin felt his skin chill as he looked around the room. Then he realized that no one was watching the lords except him--and Lady Servallan.
Stavin locked his gaze on the woman, but she didn’t look right somehow. There was a haze around her that was partially obscuring her, making his eyes move away from her. He shook his head sharply and the haze vanished. Then the lords reached the royal table.
Stavin remained seated, biding his time. When the men were right in front of the table one of them lunged forward and his momentum carried him over the table. The knife he had pulled from behind his back was in his outstretched arm like a spearhead, aimed at the king’s heart.
Stavin moved, his youthful strength and trained reflexes letting him get his shoulder between the knife and the king. The instant the knife touched him, everyone seemed to notice what was happening. Then chaos took hold of the banquet hall.
The king tried to stand but only managed to tip his chair over backwards. The queen screamed and fell into Lady Ava’s lap. Beatran and Karvik started forward at the same instant and dove over the table to meet in a collision with the attacker. The royal guardsmen stationed at either end of the table finally reacted and fell on the other lord, driving him to the floor and pinning his arms.
Through it all, Stavin stood with both hands on the table, glaring at Servallan across the room as his head bent forward, and his grin turned into a feral snarl.
The king finally made it to his feet with the help of Prince Jerlan and roared, “Guards!” Twenty Reynadian Royal Guardsmen burst into the room along with ten Evandian Royal Guardsmen.
The king grabbed Stavin and spun him around as he said, “Sit down. How badly are you injured?”
Stavin shook his head, then fingered the cut in his shirt. “Just bruised, Your Majesty, nothing more.”
“How--?” the king asked in a puzzled tone, then he probed the cut with a finger. Before Stavin had any hint of what he was doing, the king’s hand pulled down, ripping the shirt half way to Stavin’s waist and revealing the golden cloth underneath. The king stepped back a little and looked down into Stavin’s eyes.
Stavin answered the unasked question. “I always wear my under padding under my clothes, Your Majesty. It helps me look less like a waif.”
The king reached out and stroked one finger across where the knife had hit Stavin’s chest. “There is no mark.”
“No, Your Majesty, there never is,” Stavin replied softly. “Like all of my armor, it’s made of dragon scale. It won’t stop an impact, but nothing can cut it.”
The king seemed relieved, and said, “Dragon scale. I didn’t even think to ask--” He shook his head, then he focused his eyes on the man Beatran and Karvik were holding and demanded, “Who paid you to kill Prince Stavin?” The man tried to answer, but collapsed before he could say anything.
Stavin shook his head sadly. “That’s unfortunate, but not unexpected. Look at the knife.”
The king looked down toward his feet and hissed. The knife had the Evandian Royal Crest on the hilt. The king mused, “Why kill you with your own knife?”
Stavin shook his head. “I wasn’t the target, Your Majesty: You were.” He glanced toward the room, but wasn’t surprised to find Servallan gone.
“I was the--But you took the knife.”
Stavin chuckled. “Once a Royal Guard, always a Royal Guard, Your Majesty. From the looks of it, you were supposed to have appeared to die at my hand. The spell broke as soon as the knife struck my under padding.”
“Spell?” Queen Alantana asked.
Stavin bowed as he replied, “Yes, Your Majesty. No one was aware that anything was wrong until the end. No one except me, that is.”
“Why weren’t you--your armor,” the queen concluded with a knowing nod.
“But what would be the point?” Prince Jerlan asked.
Stavin turned and looked him in the eye. “If it appeared that I had murdered your father, you would have had me executed, prince or not. That would eliminate me as the Blessed of Arandar without the direct interference of the Gods Below. I’m pretty sure the Blessed of Ravashanal was behind it. She left during the commotion.”
“You know who it is?” Princess Alankira asked in a stunned tone.
Stavin bowed, then answered, “I have no proof, Cousin Kira, but I have a strong suspicion.”
“I’ll take that into consideration, Stavin,” the king rumbled. “Who do you suspect?”
Stavin bowed then replied, “Lady Servallan, Your Majesty. She and I were only people who were not affected by the spell.” Stavin’s eyebrows drew together and he shook his head. “There was something wrong with how she looked as well, but I don’t know how to properly describe it.”
“Servallan?” the king asked. “How could anyone that beautiful be evil?”
The queen put a hand on her husband’s shoulder and said, “Good and Evil are human terms, beloved. If Stavin is right, and I believe he is, then we all have the capacity to be either or both.”
“And I am living proof that appearances can be deceiving,” Stavin added as he looked up at the king.
“Indeed,” the king mused as he looked Stavin over. “Captain Zel’Grovan, have Lady Servallan detained until we can question her in the morning.” He paused to rub his temples. “Good thing I can hold my wine or we’d be in real trouble.” He didn’t seem to notice the smile that Stavin and the queen shared.
Morning arrived too early for most of the palace, but Stavin had been up for several spans befor
e the servant came and announced that Court would be held in eight spans.
Karvik walked over and sat by Stavin before asking, “Are you ready for a confrontation?”
Stavin nodded, then looked at the clothes he’d chosen for the day. “I’ll be wearing my under padding and mail under my clothes today, Kar. Have your men prepare to assist the Reynadian guards, but stay out of it if you can. I don’t want any complaints about us interfering with internal Reynadian politics.”
Karvik nodded, then put a hand on Stavin’s arm. “Unless you’re threatened, Stave. You’re still my responsibility.” He locked eyes with Stavin until he got a nod of agreement.
Stavin was soon dressed in an outfit that was fit for a prince, but it didn’t fit him all that well with his mail under it. “Gods Above, I can hardly breathe,” he moaned as Karvik looked him over.
“Doesn’t look good either,” Karvik muttered.
Stavin grumbled as he waved the butlers back to his side. “Help me take it off,” he said as he struggled to get his arms free. The butlers peeled him out of the fine clothing, then helped him squirm out of his mail. Then the process of dressing him began all over again, but this time with more satisfactory results.
Karvik nodded his approval. “It still looks tight, but more like it was intended to be that way rather than you gained a bunch of weight.”
Stavin laughed, “Shut up, Kar,” and got an amused grin in return.
“Glad to see you can still laugh,” Karvik replied. “Are we ready?”
Stavin breathed, “As ready as I’m going to be.”
Chapter 21
THE COURT WAS PACKED WITH HUNDREDS of lords and ladies, and the murmur of all those voices was like the buzzing of angry bees. Everyone went silent when King Alred and Queen Alantana entered the room. The king walked to the edge of the dais and looked around the court for a moment before speaking.
“My noble lords and ladies,” he began in a soft voice that forced everyone to be absolutely still and silent in order to hear, “last night an attempt was made on my life.” He paused as a ripple of shock rolled through the crowd. “We have Prince Stavin of Evandia, the Blessed of Arandar, to thank for stopping the conspirators.” The king found Stavin in the crowd and bowed slightly in his direction.
Gods Above and Below (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 6) Page 20
