The Seven Realms- The Complete Series

by Cinda Williams Chima

  Willo put her hand on Raisa’s shoulder, and the healer’s touch calmed her and cleared her head. Raisa closed her eyes, wishing she could sink into the sleep of forgetting.

  One thought was uppermost in her mind: This is all my fault.

  “How did it happen?” Raisa said, opening her eyes. “And when?”

  “She fell from the Queen’s Tower four days ago,” Averill said, looking down at his hands. “In the early evening. She fell from her balcony, landed in the courtyard, and was killed.”

  Raisa thought back. That would have been the night the wolves appeared to her. The night eight renegade guardsmen did their best to kill her. The night after Edon Byrne died. It was too much of a coincidence. The events were linked—they must be.

  She remembered Althea’s words: The Bayar blocked up Queen Marianna’s ears so she could not hear our warnings. And now she will pay the price.

  Willo stroked Raisa’s hair, gesturing for more tea. “You were both in the city at the time?” Willo asked, looking from Amon to Averill.

  Averill nodded. “Corporal Byrne had just arrived from the West Wall with the news that Briar Rose had disappeared from Oden’s Ford.”

  “I knew you were in the north, with…with my father, trying to get home,” Amon said, looking at Raisa. “I knew you were in danger, but still alive. So Lord Demonai and I met with Nightwalker to strategize. To discuss whether to send a guard to meet you.”

  “Nightwalker was there too?” Raisa looked from her father to Amon. She knew that Nightwalker rarely descended into the Vale if he had a choice.

  Averill nodded. “He’s been there, off and on, for two months. I asked him to come and attend me, with a handful of Demonai warriors.” He hesitated, as if not wanting to introduce more trouble into the present disaster. “Tensions have been running high with the Wizard Council, and I needed a guard I could trust.”

  The implications of this settled like a heavy wet cloak, adding to Raisa’s misery. The queen’s consort and the Wizard Council had clashed for as long as she could remember, but the former Demonai warrior Averill Lightfoot had never felt the need for a handpicked guard before.

  “We decided Nightwalker should go to Marisa Pines Camp to see if there’d been any word of you. He’d already gone when…when word came of Marianna’s death.”

  “Did anyone see it happen?” Elena asked.

  Averill shook his head. “The queen was resting in her bedchamber,” he said. “When Magret went in to wake her for dinner, her bed was empty, and the doors to the balcony stood open. Magret looked off the terrace and saw…she saw Marianna lying on the pavers below.”

  Raisa fought to drive that image from her mind. “Magret?” She looked from Averill to Amon. “Magret Gray was attending the queen?”

  Averill nodded. “Marianna had requested her specifically in recent weeks. She seemed more at ease with Magret than with anyone else.”

  Raisa’s dream came back to her, the one in which Queen Marianna stood on her terrace. She heard a noise and turned.…

  “Was Magret in the outer chamber the entire time?” Raisa whispered.

  Averill shook his head. “She divided her time between the Princess Mellony and Queen Marianna. Since Marianna was asleep, she was attending the princess.”

  “And the Queen’s Guard? Where were they?” Elena demanded.

  “They were outside her door the entire time,” Averill said. He paused, glancing at Amon. “That’s what they say, at least.”

  “Who was on duty?” Raisa asked. “Are they…are they trustworthy?”

  Clearing his throat, Amon named them off, a half dozen guards, none of whom Raisa knew. “I know three of them,” Amon said, as if reading her thoughts. “The ones I know are good soldiers. And loyal.”

  “Loyal or not, how difficult would it be for a wizard to get past them?” Elena said. “You should be asking where the Bayars were during that time.”

  Willo’s hand tightened on Raisa’s shoulder. “Elena,” she said. “We don’t need to—”

  “All right—where were they?” Raisa asked, wrapping the furs more closely around her. “Does anyone know? Have Micah and Fiona returned from the flatlands?”

  Averill nodded. “They returned at least a week ago, though they stayed holed up in the Bayar compound on Gray Lady until the past few days. Lord Bayar has been in frequent meetings at the Council House. That’s where he was the night Queen Marianna died—if you are willing to take his word for it, that is. No one else was there as witness, save other members of the council.”

  “And no one—no one saw the queen’s body in the courtyard before Magret raised the alarm?” Raisa asked.

  Averill shook his head. “The balcony overlooks the queen’s private gardens,” he said. “Marianna wasn’t fond of gardens, so she never spent much time there. Only her gardeners would have reason to enter.”

  Raisa shivered. How long had her mother lain there, helpless and broken and alone, before she died? I should have been there, she thought miserably. She shouldn’t have been alone with this.

  “Magret Gray was the first…was the first to see to the queen?” Raisa asked. Averill nodded.

  “Have you spoken with Maiden Gray?” Elena asked. “What does she say?”

  “That is why I took so long to bring the news,” Averill said. “I would have come sooner, but I didn’t know that Briar Rose was at Marisa Pines until yesterday. I wanted to…gather as much information as I could before I came.”

  Before evidence could be destroyed or covered up, was the implication.

  “I hope you are being careful, Lightfoot,” Elena said. “If it was murder, the perpetrators wouldn’t hesitate to kill a troublesome consort, too.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Averill said, managing a faint smile.

  “What did she say?” Elena asked. “Was there any sign that there was more to it than a fall from a balcony?”

  Averill shook his head. “No obvious sign. It appeared Marianna was killed by the fall and not by anything else.”

  Would a wizard’s touch have left traces behind? The trauma of the fall could have covered over any subtle signs of foul play. Or a wizard could have clouded Marianna’s mind and made her think she could fly. Or planted the impulse to kill herself.

  “However,” Averill continued, “the queen had this in her fist.” He drew a small pouch from his pocket and emptied the contents into his hand. It was a length of heavy gold chain, the links twisted and broken at either end. It was fine work—clan made, no doubt.

  It was the kind of chain often used to carry amulets and talismans.

  “Magret found it,” Averill said, “when she was preparing Marianna’s body.”

  Elena reached her hand toward it, her face grim and hard. She poked the chain with her forefinger. “So. It seems that the queen’s murderers left clues behind.”

  “We don’t know there was a murder, Elena,” Willo said. “Not for sure.” She turned to Averill. “Did they find anything else?” she asked. “Anything else that would help us?”

  Averill shook his head.

  “Let’s think about this,” Raisa said, her voice low and wooden. “What if someone pushed my mother off her terrace? And what if she reached out and grabbed the chain around the killer’s neck, trying to save herself? And when she fell, it broke.”

  “That’s plausible,” Averill said. “I must admit, that’s what I thought too.”

  “But it’s not enough, that it’s plausible,” Willo said. “We still have no proof that—”

  “It was the Bayars and their allies,” Elena said. “You know it was. Who else stood to gain from the queen’s death? Nightwalker is ready to go to war, and I don’t blame him. The Demonai will not continue to stand by and see the Nǽming violated without retaliating.”

  Raisa fought down the voice in her head, the Demonai voice that said, Yes! Go to war against my mother’s murderers. Shed their blood as they shed hers.

  “You need better proof if
you launch a war in the Fells,” she said wearily. “The Bayars are guilty of plenty, but we don’t know that they had a hand in this. I will maintain a rule of law, even if it’s inconvenient.”

  “It’s the rule of law that has brought us here,” Elena said, fingering her braids. “It seems that those who follow the law become victims.”

  “And those who do not follow the law become tyrants,” Raisa said. “No one has more reason to demand revenge than me. But it’s the Queen’s Guard’s responsibility to bring my mother’s killer to justice. If there is a killer.”

  “Where was the Guard when Queen Marianna was murdered?” Elena said. “Captain Byrne was dying in Marisa Pines Pass, and Corporal Byrne was in the flatlands. Who was in charge of keeping the queen safe?”

  There was dead silence for a long moment. Amon sat up straighter, fixing his gray eyes on Elena, the fingers of his right hand beating a tattoo on his thigh. Raisa knew that he was furious, but doubted that anyone could tell who didn’t know him as well as she did.

  These are the people I am going to have to manage, Raisa thought, if I am to succeed as queen.

  “Elena Cennestre,” she said. “That’s enough. I would ask you to remember that ten members of my guard gave their lives in Marisa Pines Pass for my sake.” At least anger and frustration were potent distracters from the grief that threatened to overwhelm her.

  “Forgive me, Granddaughter,” Elena said. “I apologize for my blunt words. I mean no disrespect to the Guard, or to you, Corporal Byrne.” She looked at Amon, who nodded fractionally. “I still believe that we Demonai can contribute more. You need more protection in these times than your Guard can offer. We would like to help.”

  “I will keep that in mind, Grandmother,” Raisa murmured.

  “Has anyone searched the queen’s rooms?” Elena asked, looking at Amon and Averill. “If the broken chain carried an amulet, it might have fallen to the floor.”

  “We did search the queen’s bedchamber and the—the area around her body,” Amon said, licking his lips and glancing at Raisa. “It’s always possible they may have missed something.”

  “We will search her bedchamber and her garden again, thoroughly,” Averill said. “I’ll return to the city tonight and enlist the rest of the Demonai.”

  “Where…where is my mother now?” Raisa asked, hoping it wasn’t a cold place. Marianna had always hated the cold.

  “She lies in state in the Cathedral Temple,” Averill said, “in Speaker Jemson’s care. Once the speakers divine her final resting place in the Spirits, we will arrange for her burial.”

  “What about Mellony?” Raisa asked, suddenly seized with the urge to see her sister. “Where is she? And…how is she, do you know?”

  Averill shook his head. “She is being held closely in Fellsmarch Castle, for her own safety, it is said. She is fragile, as you know, and distraught, of course, about her mother. They were so close.…” His voice trailed off, and Raisa knew he wished he could take the words back.

  She had caught the implication, of course—Marianna and Mellony were close, as Raisa and her mother were not.

  “I was not able to speak with Mellony in private,” Averill went on, “much as I tried. She is surrounded by armies of guards and ladies-in-waiting, and the Bayars are constantly with her.”

  “The Bayars? Which Bayars?” Elena demanded.

  “All of them. Gavan Bayar, Micah, Fiona, and Lady Bayar,” Averill said. He paused. “As consort, I don’t have the authority to send them away. They’re like attack dogs surrounding a pretty pet. I expect an announcement of Mellony’s betrothal to Micah any day now, though I’m guessing they would delay any wedding plans until after Mellony’s coronation. Just to be sure.”

  Raisa nearly dropped her tea. She leaned forward. “What? What do you mean?”

  Averill looked at Willo and Elena, almost accusingly. “She doesn’t know?”

  “Briar Rose is just out of her sickbed today,” Willo said. “It seemed wise to allow her to gain strength before we told her.”

  Elena nodded. “We didn’t see any reason to bring it up now. As long as Marianna was alive and healthy, it seemed…premature.”

  “Tell me,” Raisa said through stiff lips, knowing matters were about to get even worse.

  “The queen meant well,” Averill said. “Despite your differences, she wanted to protect your right to the throne. You must know that, Briar Rose.”

  “Will someone please tell me what’s happened with the succession?” Raisa said, gripping the arms of the chair to keep from springing to her feet.

  “Queen Marianna was under tremendous pressure from both the Wizard Council and her own council of nobles,” Averill said. “You had disappeared, and she did not want to mention your letter for fear of putting you in danger.”

  Raisa looked up and met Amon’s eyes, saw the question in them—what letter? She shifted her gaze back to Averill.

  “But in the last few months, Marianna drew courage from somewhere,” Averill said. “Perhaps she knew in her heart of hearts she was being deceived, was being spelled by the High Wizard. She dismissed Speaker Redfern and brought Speaker Jemson to the Cathedral Temple. He has been a great source of strength to her, but a source of pressure also. As you know, he is committed to the Old Faith, to the restrictions put in place after the Breaking, and to the integrity of the Gray Wolf line.”

  Averill loved her, Raisa thought. He’s always loved her. Even with everything that’s happened to divide them. What a pity she never loved him back.

  So many regrets. So many lost opportunities.

  “Lord Bayar kept after the queen,” Averill continued, “telling her that if something happened to her, there would be a vacuum of power, that there could be a civil war, that we could be invaded from the south. Most members of the Queen’s Council supported Bayar.”

  Bright Hand approached with the teapot, and Raisa impatiently waved him away. “So?”

  “So two weeks ago Marianna announced a change in the succession,” Averill said heavily. “She maintained you as princess heir, but added a provision that allowed Mellony to be crowned queen if Marianna herself were to pass away and you had not returned.”

  Raisa stared at her father as the implications of this soaked in.

  “She meant to protect your claim while addressing the concerns about a vacuum of power,” Averill said quietly. “I believe that she knew you were best suited to succeed her. She was trying to satisfy the Spirit clans, the Wizard Council, the speakers, and the Council of Nobles.”

  “Blood of the demon,” Raisa whispered. “She tried to please everyone, and maybe signed her own death warrant.” She pressed her fingertips against her temples. Her head pounded, as if thoughts and revelations were banging on the inside of her skull.

  “Here’s a theory,” she said through her fingers. “Micah and Fiona returned home and told their father that I’d left Oden’s Ford and might be on my way back. That forced Bayar’s hand. He couldn’t take the risk that I’d show up and ruin everything. So he murdered the queen, my mother, and set a trap for me. If I stayed in the south, Mellony would have been crowned and married to Micah. Even if I showed up later, they’d have time to dig in so they’d be impossible to dislodge. If I were stubborn enough to stay and fight, they would have found a way to do away with me then. But, naturally, the best outcome was to make sure I’d never come back.”

  “We have no proof of that, Briar Rose,” Willo said softly.

  Raisa shook her head. “Just humor me here. If I were dead and there was no alternative, the clans would have to accept Mellony. So the Wizard Council probably assumed it was a good bet to proceed.”

  “Your Highness, we would never—” Elena began.

  “What choice would you have?” Raisa interrupted. “Who else would you get? My cousin Missy Hakkam?” Raisa shuddered. “Mellony would be the only surviving heir to the Gray Wolf line.”

  They’d been outfoxed all along the way. They’d underestim
ated the ruthlessness of their enemies. If not for Edon Byrne and Hanson Alister, they would have won already.

  They they they, Raisa thought. I have to be careful. As Willo says, we have no proof it was the Bayars. Not yet.

  But who else could it be? Who else had an interest in seeing Mellony on the throne? Or was there another motivation she wasn’t seeing? Did she have enemies of her own? Gerard Montaigne, for instance. He would benefit from a vacuum of power in the Fells.

  And if it was the Bayars, which Bayars? Was Micah involved?

  Into the charged silence, Raisa said, “What are people saying? In the palace and in the streets?”

  “There is some gossip,” Averill said. He stopped, searching Raisa’s face for permission to go on. “There is talk within the close, Your Highness, that the queen took her own life,” he said. “There is talk that she had been drinking to excess. This talk is widespread and persistent.”

  I wonder how that got started, Raisa thought bitterly. Listen and learn. Show any sign of weakness, and your enemies will pounce.

  “And…outside the close?” Raisa asked.

  “People are worried,” Averill said. “They know that you are missing, and they wonder what will happen now. They don’t know anything about Mellony, while you have considerable support among the working classes. Because of the Briar Rose Ministry.”

  A worrisome thought crowded to the front of Raisa’s mind. “Who else knows I’m alive?” she asked, looking around the circle. “You sent word to my father. Was the Guard notified, or the Council of Nobles, or…”

  “I told no one in the capital about the attack,” Averill said. “So whoever was behind it is probably wondering what happened. And worrying that you might suddenly surface.”

  “People in camp are talking,” Willo said, “even though I rushed you into Matriarch Lodge as soon as I recognized you. You arrived in the middle of the day, after all, and the Demonai nearly shot Hunts Alone when he brought you in.” She passed a weary hand over her forehead. “There are rumors going around, but only my apprentices know who you really are.”