The Seven Realms- The Complete Series

by Cinda Williams Chima

  “I would like to ask that my father’s ashes be buried near his liege queen, on Marianna Peak,” Amon said. At Mellony’s puzzled expression, he rushed on, “Not—not beside her or anything. Perhaps somewhere nearby, maybe at the foot of her tomb, somewhere he can continue to watch over her in death as he did in life.”

  “Oh!” Mellony rose in a swish of silk, hands clasped in front of her, the tears pooling in her eyes. “Oh, that’s so romantic. To think of Captain Byrne watching over his queen forever.”

  “Don’t you Byrnes have a tomb in the Cathedral Temple?” Lord Bayar said, seemingly unmoved by romance. “Wouldn’t it be more proper to bury your father next to your mother?”

  “Aye, Lord Bayar, it would seem so,” Amon said, looking the wizard in the eyes. “But my mother would understand. She knew when she married my father of the special bond between queen and captain. A bond that goes from life to death.”

  Lord Bayar scowled. Amon guessed that the High Wizard instinctively wanted to deny the request, but could think of no good reason to do so. “Speaker Jemson,” Bayar said. “You will oversee Her Majesty’s memorial service. You are in charge of maintaining the old traditions. Doesn’t this seem…disrespectful?”

  Jemson templed his fingers together and considered this, his expression solemn. “I am well aware of the bond between queens and captains,” he said finally, his face betraying nothing. “I would have no objection if that is what both families desire.”

  “Lord Demonai?” Lord Bayar turned to Averill. “As consort to the queen, I would think you might question the propriety of—”

  “I am not at all threatened by Captain Byrne’s ashes, Lord Bayar,” Averill said. “I have never had reason to question Captain Byrne’s loyalty nor the nature of his regard for the queen.” The look he leveled at Gavan Bayar could have frozen the Dyrnnewater.

  Mellony smiled damply. “I think my mother, the queen, would be pleased to know that her captain sleeps nearby,” she said, sitting again.

  Micah covered her hand with his own, leaned over and whispered something in her ear. She blushed and whispered something back.

  “Thank you, Your Highness,” Amon said, trying to ignore the display. He wanted nothing more than to get out of there. He much preferred the mean streets of Southbridge to the connivery at court. He’d gotten what he wanted, after all—a chance to survey the burial site ahead of time and an excuse to be in the thick of things at the memorial.

  “With your permission, then, Speaker Jemson and I will walk the burial site later today and make a decision about my father’s rites and the placement of his grave.” Amon rose and bowed. “If I may, I’ll take my leave.”

  “Not so fast,” Lord Bayar said.

  Amon froze in place, not looking up.

  “Corporal Byrne, the Council of Regents must request a little more of your time,” the High Wizard said. “Please, sit.”

  C H A P T E R E I G H T E E N

  A WEB OF LIES

  Amon sat down again, endeavoring to keep his face as blank as new snow while his heart hammered under his uniform coat. He looked up and met the High Wizard’s cold blue eyes.

  “While it is difficult to look beyond our recent losses and Queen Marianna’s burial, we must consider the issue of the coronation,” Bayar said.

  “The coronation, sir?” Amon said. He glanced at Princess Mellony, then back at Lord Bayar.

  “As you astutely pointed out, our enemies are gathering to the south,” Lord Bayar said. “Have you heard the news? Tamron Court has fallen to Gerard Montaigne.”

  Amon shook his head. “No,” he said, pretending surprised dismay. “I hadn’t heard that.”

  “We cannot afford to leave our throne unoccupied for long,” Bayar said. “It will be perceived as a power vacuum that our enemies to the south will be only too happy to fill. Montaigne may decide that it’s easier to conquer the Fells than to continue fighting against his brothers.”

  “I can see where that might happen,” Amon said truthfully.

  “Given the princess heir’s extended absence, Queen Marianna made a difficult decision,” Lord Bayar said. “She modified the succession, recognizing that the Princess Raisa might never return home. She named the Princess Mellony her successor in the event that…that the throne became vacant and the Princess Raisa could not be located,” he finished delicately. He shook his head. “None of us ever anticipated that this alternate plan would ever be needed.”

  “Raisa may still return,” Mellony said, a faint protest. “I don’t want anyone to think that we’re setting her aside.”

  “That is exactly what people will think, daughter, the Demonai in particular,” Averill said. “That is one reason I voted against it on the council.”

  “This is difficult for the Princess Mellony to accept,” Lord Hakkam said, speaking up for the first time. “But, in recognition of the current crisis in Arden and Tamron, the Council of Regents has determined that if the Princess Raisa does not return for Queen Marianna’s memorial service, we must proceed with Princess Mellony’s coronation.”

  Amon wished he could watch all the faces at once so as not to miss anything. He looked first at Speaker Jemson. The speaker’s face was smooth and untroubled. He was a smart man. He probably knew the price of resistance as well as Amon.

  Mellony somehow managed to look both guilty and thrilled. Unconsciously, she reached down and stroked Micah’s hair as if it were a talisman. She’d never hoped to be queen, Amon thought. She likes the idea. And she knows in her secret heart that it will win her Micah.

  “Is it really so urgent?” Amon said finally, trying to sound as if this were interesting news that had little to do with him. “It seems like you have a little time before Montaigne regroups. The siege of Tamron Court must have taken a toll. And if he wants to march through the mountains, he’ll have to wait for better weather. As far as I know, he has no experience with mountain warfare.”

  “And yet you just said that you returned home because of the risk Montaigne poses,” Lord Bayar said, pouncing on Amon’s words like a trout on a fly. You can’t have it both ways, his expression said. “I don’t think it’s wise to underestimate Montaigne. Look what happened to the Tomlins.”

  “I can see why you would not want to leave the throne vacant for long,” Amon said. “But what happens if the Princess Raisa returns at a later time?” He could feel Micah Bayar’s black-eyed gaze on him.

  Lord Hakkam shrugged. “There is no provision to…rearrange matters should that happen,” he said. “You must admit, it was irresponsible of her to run off like that, without a word to anyone.”

  That was either brave or foolhardy on Hakkam’s part, to call the princess heir of the realm irresponsible. Still, Amon could see how the nobility would take a dim view of Raisa’s disappearance. They’d not been told that it had been precipitated by the prospect of a forced marriage to a wizard. They’d likely been told that Raisa’d had a spat with the queen and stormed off in a huff. The Gray Wolf line was known to be headstrong. Look at Hanalea.

  Amon knew that was all he could do, to try to raise a doubt, to try to slow things down. But why would they tell Amon Byrne about their plans for the coronation? Unless—if Raisa still lived, and Amon knew where she was, they would expect him to rush back and tell her. And that might flush their quarry before she could cause real trouble.

  So he sat, saying nothing, waiting to be dismissed, wondering what to say to Raisa, and how to prevent his own headstrong queen from doing something foolhardy.

  “Queen Mellony will need a captain of her guard,” Lord Bayar said, wrenching him back to the present.

  Oh.

  Queen Mellony. The sound of it made Amon’s skin itch.

  “Aye,” he said, nodding sagely. “That’s so.” He knew he sounded like a dolt, but he wasn’t going to make the offer. His mind worked furiously. Raisa had been right, as she usually was about political matters. Say yes, she’d said. Say yes, or it will be your death warran
t.

  “I would be honored, Corporal Byrne, if you would consent to be captain of my guard,” Mellony said, smiling at him.

  Amon was glad Raisa had warned him, glad he hadn’t been blindsided. The Bayars knew that the Byrnes stood in the way of their complete control over their chosen queen. So why would they go along with the selection of a Byrne as captain?

  Raisa had suggested one reason: the Bayars knew the elevation of Mellony to the throne would be controversial. They would want to add any legitimacy to it that they could. If a Byrne consented to be captain, as tradition demanded, that would make her more credible.

  The second possibility was that they really took him to be a fool.

  The third possibility was that they wanted to keep him close and under their watch so they could handle him if he showed any signs of being uncooperative.

  It was hard to keep in the front of his mind who knew what secrets.

  Amon realized he was thinking on it too long, when they were all waiting for his response.

  “I—I’m flattered, Your Highness,” Amon said. “But surprised as well. Though I’ve been nearly four years at Oden’s Ford, I’m still a cadet. I’m just eighteen. I would have expected you to choose someone with more schooling and experience.”

  “Come, now,” General Klemath snapped. “You can’t be that surprised. It’s always been a Byrne, ever since the Breaking.”

  He doesn’t seem happy about it, either, Amon thought. Perhaps he thought one of his idiot sons would be tapped for the post.

  “We believe that character and bloodlines are more important than training and experience,” Mellony said, smiling.

  “Unless you prefer we name your sister Lydia or your brother Ira,” Lord Bayar said.

  Bones, Amon thought. He was surprised Lord Bayar knew he had a sister and brother. He didn’t like that he knew it. Naming Lydia was a possible out for them. She was an artist, without training as a soldier. Although still a Byrne, she would be less of an obstacle to Bayar ambition. It would put Lydia in danger and would not offer much protection to the queen.

  And Ira was eleven years old. He wouldn’t go to the academy for two more years.

  “General Klemath, you are right,” Amon said. “I should have anticipated it. It’s just—things are shifting so quickly, it’s hard to keep up. I expected to have years in the Guard to prepare. With the tragic loss of the queen, and then the loss of my father—it will just take a while to get used to the idea, I guess.”

  Bayar’s expression said Don’t take too long.

  “Corporal Byrne,” Mellony said. “We have this in common: we are both thrust into roles we never expected. We can learn together, you and I.”

  Amon nodded. “I hadn’t thought of it that way.”

  That’s exactly what we don’t need, Amon thought. A young, malleable, inexperienced queen and a green captain of the guard.

  “So you agree?” Mellony said, leaning forward eagerly, the child unwilling to be denied.

  Amon inclined his head. “Yes,” he said. “I would be honored to serve as Captain of the Queen’s Guard, Your Highness.” After all, he already was, in fact.

  Lord Bayar studied him for a long moment, then nodded, seeming satisfied. “Good.” He looked at Speaker Jemson. “Isn’t there some sort of religious ceremony?” he said, with clear disinterest. “Will you be handling that?”

  Speaker Jemson nodded. “Typically, it takes place at the time of the coronation,” he said. “I will prepare for that, along with the rest.”

  Jemson is a fair liar, for a dedicate, Amon thought.

  “Thank you, Corporal Byrne,” Lord Bayar said, dismissing him. “This Regent’s Council meeting is adjourned.”

  Amon rose and backed away, bowing, but they were no longer paying attention to him. Mellony climbed down from her high chair and stood, chatting animatedly with Micah. As Amon watched, the young wizard slid an arm around Mellony’s shoulders and drew her in for a kiss.

  Amon didn’t look forward to sharing all this news with Raisa.

  “Corporal.” Amon flinched and looked up to find Jemson next to him. “I am riding up to Marianna Peak now to observe the preparations. Why don’t you come along? We can make some decisions and you can get the lay of the land.”

  “Yes, thank you, I will,” Amon said, yanking his attention away from Mellony and Micah.

  Speaker Jemson followed his gaze. “It seems we have our work cut out for us, doesn’t it?”

  Amon had to agree.

  By the end of the day, Amon was physically and mentally exhausted. The Gray Wolves had accompanied Amon and Jemson to Marianna Peak, since Amon meant to use them as part of the honor guard for his father. Whatever the final plan, he wanted soldiers on hand he could trust during the memorial. His Wolves were all native-born, except for Pearlie Greenholt, who had come north with Talia, leaving her post as weapons master at Wien House. She had taken Wode’s place in Amon’s triple after Wode was killed in Tamron.

  They walked the burial ground, and Amon took notes and made sketches. His father’s urn would not take much space, so there was no need to chop a deep grave out of the still-frozen ground. He spoke to the stone carvers about an appropriate monument. All the while, he racked his brain, looking for a safe way to bring Raisa in and out of the site without exposing her to those who would be eager to finish the job they’d started.

  When they returned to Fellsmarch, Amon debriefed his Wolfpack again, giving them preliminary instructions for the day of the memorial. They wouldn’t know about the Princess Raisa until the very last minute. He trusted his Wolves, but the fewer who knew, the less chance word would leak out.

  He left the urn containing his father’s ashes with Speaker Jemson. It would rest in state in the Cathedral Temple until the memorial service, when Amon and his Wolves would accompany it to the burial site.

  He managed a late dinner with his brother Ira and his sister Lydia and her family. Three years older than Amon, Lydia was recently married and expecting a child. She and her husband, Donnell Graves, a merchant, had rented a home within the castle close, since many of her painting commissions came from the wealthy nobility who lived in the area. With their father gone, Ira would move in with Lydia until it was time for him to leave for the academy.

  Lydia would have preferred to bury their father next to their mother in the Byrne tomb in the cathedral close, but it would not be the first time she had sacrificed her desires to the good of queen and realm.

  There was much to talk about—memories and grief to share—and they were reluctant to let him go. As a result, it was quite late when Amon fetched his horse from the barracks stable for the long ride back to Marisa Pines. As he led the gelding through the stable doors into the courtyard, he saw movement in the shadows next to the building.

  Amon assumed it was one of his fellow guards, staying late from the previous shift or early for the next. “Who goes there?” he called softly.

  But the tall spare figure who stepped into the light was not one of the Queen’s Guard.

  “What are you doing here?” Amon asked, sliding his sword free, but keeping it pointed toward the ground.

  Micah Bayar came forward, hands raised, palms out, to show that he was not touching his amulet. “Relax, Corporal Byrne, I mean you no harm. I just wanted to talk to you.”

  “That’s a shame, Bayar, because I don’t want to talk to you,” Amon said, sorting through what he did and didn’t know, and what he could and couldn’t admit to. “Have you been waiting for me all this time?”

  Micah nodded. “I looked for you at the barracks, but it seems you aren’t staying here.” He paused. When Amon said nothing, he said impatiently, “Why aren’t you in the barracks? Where are you staying?”

  “It’s crowded in the barracks. Too many new faces. And it’s none of your business where I’m staying.” Amon wanted to mount up, but he knew that would make him vulnerable to a magical attack. “Now, if there’s nothing else…?”

&nb
sp; Micah stepped into the gateway leading out of the courtyard, blocking the way. “I want to know if you’ve heard from the Princess Raisa, and if you know where she is.”

  “The Princess Raisa?” Amon assumed a perplexed expression. “How would I know where she is? You heard what I said at the Council of Regents meeting. I’ve been at Oden’s Ford all this while, same as you.”

  Micah’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t lie to me. I know you took her to Oden’s Ford. I know you had her hidden away there.”

  Amon snorted. “Let me get this straight: you think the princess heir of the realm ran away with a fourth-year cadet and has been living at a military academy for nearly a year?” Some devil within him made him add, “Why would she do such a thing…unless she was absolutely desperate to get away?”

  Micah scowled at the dig. “I know she was at Oden’s Ford because I saw her,” he said.

  “If you say so,” Amon said. “Then maybe she’s still there. Unless you know something I don’t.” He paused, wondering if Micah would actually confess to kidnapping Raisa. When Micah said nothing, Amon added, “Why do you care where she is? Looks to me like you’re…ah…supporting the Princess Mellony.” Amon raised an eyebrow.

  “If the Princess Raisa is still alive, she should be crowned queen,” Micah said.

  Amon eyed Micah, trying to read his face in the inconsistent light. “Well, now, Bayar,” he said. “You finally hit on something we can agree on.”

  “If you know where she is, you need to get word to her,” Micah continued. “She has to be at Queen Marianna’s funeral. Once Mellony is crowned, it will be too late.”

  “I didn’t hear you speaking up at the Council of Regents,” Amon said. “Seems to me that’s who you should be talking to. Not a lowly corporal in the guard.”

  You don’t fool me, Amon thought. You just want to know where she is so you can finish the job you started. Still keeping one eye on the wizard, he swung up into his saddle and nudged his gelding into a walk, aiming straight at Micah.