“I wouldn’t have blamed him if he did considering the circumstances, Cedric. But I just don’t know how anyone except the ten of us in my chamber could have known about our discussion. None of the others would have breathed a word. I’m sure of it.”
“A spy perhaps?”
“I suppose it is possible, but how? The chamber doors were closed and guarded from the outside and are too thick for sound to readily pass through. Besides, many other delegates from the war council were congregating outside at the time, so no one could have heard anything from the corridors above the din.” King Justin waved his hand in disgust. “Not that it matters now. The boy is dead and–” He wiped his misty eyes. “He was so young. His mother and grandfather will be crushed. But tell me, how has William coped?”
“Surprisingly well, especially after he arrived here and befriended one of the kitchen workers–a boy named Aaron.” King Cedric chuckled. “There is a story to that, too, though one with a happy ending as Eucádus briefly informed me after your arrival.”
“Tell me at once so that a little joy may find its way back into my darkened soul.”
“As I only know a few particulars, I’ll be quick,” he replied. “We can both get the full story about William and Aaron’s abduction and escape when we speak to them later.”
“Abduction? Escape? Apparently I’ve missed much on the long march from Morrenwood.”
After King Cedric related what little news Eucádus had imparted, King Justin felt happier knowing that William got the better of his attackers this second time around. King Cedric brought up another point that put Prince Brendan’s death in a new light.
“Though he probably never realized it, Brendan’s sacrifice may have aided the two men who are on that mysterious journey you mentioned.”
“How so?”
“William told me that the attack in the cabin occurred twelve days after he and Brendan had left Morrenwood,” he recalled. “So that would have given your two real agents at least twelve days to begin their journey without interference from the thing who assaulted the young princes. That could be key to the mission’s success.”
King Justin couldn’t help but smile at King Cedric’s word choice, but would not tell him the cause of his mirth. He folded his arms as he leaned back in his chair, contemplating where in the wild Nicholas and Leo were right now, wondering if he should dare to hope that they had already made it successfully to Wolf Lake.
At that very moment, however, as the nearby fire was easing the chill from King Justin’s weary muscles, Nicholas Raven’s life was being saved by a well-aimed arrow from Hannah Boland’s quiver. And Leo Marsh and his guide were wending their way through the Dunn Hills back to Morrenwood with the reforged key of which the King of Arrondale dared not speak.
King Justin kept his silence and gazed enigmatically at King Cedric with guarded optimism. Eucádus, Ramsey and Captain Tiber finally strolled over toward them. But before they could engage the two Kings in conversation, muted voices drifted into the main doorway from the adjoining corridor.
Moments later, Ranen and Captain Silas stepped into the room along with a few other men, having also learned of King Basil’s demise. Silas stood near his departed King for some time, visibly moved by the man’s death, a leader he looked up to as a father for so many years while a trusted soldier in his army. Ranen stepped away shortly afterward when he saw Eucádus standing near the fireplace with the others and headed toward him. He greeted his fellow Clearing leader like a long lost brother. After Ranen was introduced to King Justin and spoke with him for a few moments, Eucádus took his friend aside.
“What happened to your arm?” he asked, noting a white bandage around Ranen’s left wrist.
“This is but a scrape compared to what my opponent received in return,” he softly replied with an amused grin. His long, black hair was again tied up in back with his wife’s slip of red material.
Eucádus scanned the faces of the other men who had accompanied Ranen and Silas into the room, none who were familiar. “Uland and Torr? Where are they?”
“Fear not. I talked to them both near the docks not two hours ago. They will make an appearance later tonight,” he said. “Both were helping to secure the ships that had sailed over from Zaracosa. Other than a few bumps and scrapes, they are fine.”
“My heart rests easier hearing that,” Eucádus said. “Still, we have lost many men from all five of the Clearings on this day.”
“It was a price we were willing to pay to secure our freedom at home and abroad,” Ranen replied, detecting uneasiness in Eucádus’ demeanor. When he shot a glance at Ramsey nearby, he noted the same unease as a cold sense of foreboding gripped his spirit. “And Jeremias? Where is he this evening?” Eucádus looked up, his eyes filled with a palpable sorrow that conveyed more than words ever could. Ranen’s face paled and he bowed his head. He needed no explanation for Jeremias’ absence. “How did he die?”
“He saved my life, Ranen, taking an arrow meant for me,” he answered, his eyes glassy and his voice tired. “Released from the bow of Irabesh himself.” Ranen snapped his head up, his face hardened with disdain until Eucádus smiled. “But Irabesh paid the ultimate price for his deed. Jeremias’ death was avenged on the spot.”
“That offers me comfort, but only a little.” He glanced over his shoulder at the small group gathered around King Basil’s bier. “Men, both great and unsung, have fallen today. But all will leave an equal void in the hearts of those who knew them well.”
Eucádus rested a hand upon Ranen’s shoulder, realizing how fortunate they had been to survive this horrible day of battle and bloodshed. Yet both knew that the untimely deaths of their friends and fellow soldiers had killed a small piece of themselves inside, a living death they would carry around for as long as they survived.
CHAPTER 68
The Lines of Succession
King Basil was buried late the following morning in one of the gardens north of the estate. His grave lay next to those of his deceased wife, Imogene, and eldest son, Morton. Though the body of Victor, his youngest son, had never been found after the raid on Zaracosa five months ago, most expected that a memorial stone would be displayed one day soon for Victor near this trio of gravesites to honor the fallen hero whatever his fate. The citizens of Rhiál felt that the royal family should be together forever in death as they had enjoyed only a short time in each other’s company while living at the estate. A more tranquil spot could not be found for the gravesite gently splashed in the shade of a weeping willow tree, its slender branches playfully catching breezes off Lake LaShear. The distant, snowcapped peaks of the northern Ridloe Mountains would forever stand watch, reflecting flashes of the rising and setting sun.
All through the night before the King’s burial, citizens and soldiers of Rhiál had made a pilgrimage to the royal estate, asking to look upon their cherished monarch one last time. Despite the frenzied aftermath of the battle, officials allowed people to view the body, a process that concluded just before the break of dawn.
Later in the afternoon on the burial day, Kings Justin and Cedric were invited to a private luncheon after the ceremony with some of their closest captains and a few of King Basil’s ministers. Prince William and Aaron were also in attendance. The two boys had briefly met with King Justin and King Cedric during the night, but now William looked forward to spending extra time with both Kings before the task of cleaning up from the war continued.
“I can only say again how truly sorry I am for the loss of your brother, William. I was shocked when I heard the news,” King Justin later said to the young prince. They walked alone outside in the cool sunshine along King Basil’s private dining area. They talked of Brendan while the other guests continued to eat and converse inside behind the large windows overlooking the lake.
“I appreciate your kind words,” William replied. “But do not blame yourself for his death. I detect a hint of remorse in your voice.”
“You are perceptive,”
the King admitted, his mood shifting from somber to apprehensive. “Now I wish to learn more about the creature who attacked you and of his knowledge about the medallion. Did he say where he came from or give any clue as to his origin?”
William shook his head. “He said nothing to indicate who he was or how far he had traveled. But I suspect he had followed Brendan and me for quite some time.”
“Oh?”
William recounted some strange incidents about his and Brendan’s journey from Morrenwood. “On our sixth day after we had left the Blue Citadel, we were enjoying lunch on the shores of Lake Lasko. A deer wandered out of the woods, so I fed it one of my apples. Brendan, though he didn’t mention it to me at the time, felt uneasy about the animal’s presence, later saying something about the look of the deer’s eyes. That night, we arrived in the village of Parma where we met a man on the roadside named Sorli. He claimed he had just been robbed of his horse and had beaten off his attacker before the man could steal his money.”
“Claimed? You sound skeptical,” he remarked as the cries of distant seagulls reverberated along the shoreline.
“I wasn’t at the time. Later, Sorli bought us dinner at an inn and we agreed to journey with him the following morning since we would be traveling in the same direction for several miles,” William continued. “But when Brendan and I were sitting alone after Sorli retired for the night, my brother insisted that we discreetly leave the inn at once and travel south beyond the lake along the back roads. That’s when my brother told me what was bothering him, though I thought he was speaking utter nonsense at the time.”
King Justin stopped walking and gazed at William as a sense of dread gripped him. “What did your bother say?”
William looked up, his eyes filled with dismay. “Brendan’s instincts were correct, of course. He told me that Sorli reminded him of somebody–in an eerie sort of way–whenever he had looked into the man’s eyes during dinner. Later on the road, after he had rushed me out of the inn, Brendan mentioned that he had had that same weird feeling when looking into the deer’s eyes earlier in the day. I made a joke of it, asking him if he thought the deer had somehow turned into Sorli. But he was deadly serious.” William sighed. “I guess deadly wasn’t the best choice of words.”
“Let’s walk some more,” King Justin said, pointing ahead to a lawn along the north end of the estate near one of the gardens. Here in summertime the grass was lush, and flowering trees and shrubs were abundant amid laughter and conversations in the high, bright sunshine. Now the area was awash in subtle tones of brown and gray that encouraged contemplation and whispered words more than the exuberant expressions of warmer, lighter days. “Tell me what happened at the cabin if it isn’t too hurtful to revisit those moments.”
Prince William offered a tentative nod. “That’s when we saw the deer again, or what we thought at the time was another deer.” He explained how he and Brendan had gotten lost in the Ebrean Forest and took refuge in the cabin where he later met Ramsey and his friends from the Star Clearing. He described their attack by the strange individual with a shock of white hair upon its skeletal head, and how the being’s hand had magically and temporarily transformed into a bird’s talon that mercilessly slew Brendan before his very eyes. “That stranger wanted the medallion, and when he was convinced we didn’t have it, he demanded to know where it was. The creature knew that it was in the possession of two men who had left the Blue Citadel.” William glanced at the King in bewilderment. “How could he or anyone have learned about Nicholas and Leo’s mission?”
“I don’t know,” he replied, disturbed by William’s chilling story. “But someone found out about our secret and the results were disastrous for your brother.” William stopped and tugged on the King’s cloak, causing him to turn around and face the young prince, noting that something was bothering him. “What’s the matter? I should think that after recounting your tale, there would be nothing left of consequence to add, but you still appear troubled.”
“Because there is still something left to tell, though I’m ashamed to say it.” He cast his eyes to the ground and took a deep breath before facing King Justin’s scrutiny. “I broke my oath, sir, that the ten of us took inside your chamber in the Citadel.”
“You, William?” he replied, slightly baffled. “But you just said that even you don’t know how that creature had learned about the medallion.”
“That’s true. I, however, broke my oath during the attack. After Brendan had been struck down, the creature came after me as I was climbing a ladder to the upper level of the cabin.” William recalled the surreal moment, stirring up painful memories. “As he questioned me, I was terrified and found myself telling him about the mission. I even mentioned Nicholas and Leo by name, though I had honestly told my pursuer that I didn’t know where or in which direction the two men were traveling.” He turned with shame and gazed down upon the lake, finding it difficult to look directly at King Justin. “Our foe may not have been able to make use of my information as Nicholas and Leo had a twelve day head start by then, but I still broke my oath and would gladly accept any punishment that is my due.” He looked up, awaiting the King’s judgment.
“Hmmm… I suppose that must be a weighty burden off your shoulders, my dear prince.” He eyed William with a stern gaze, his lips locked in a straight line and his expression unreadable. Slowly, a relaxed and forgiving smile formed on the monarch’s face, his eyes filled with a mix of sympathy and gratitude. “Yet in light of the circumstances, if anyone were to be given a pass for breaking an oath under such duress, it would be you. And I can confidently say that if I asked any of the other eight members of our little cabal, they would feel the same way, too.”
“Still, I feel as if I have failed you,” William persisted. “Failed the entire group.”
“You did not fail us, William. And if you are overwhelmed by guilt, well, you must work through that on your own time. But do not mistake my advice as cold or uncaring.” King Justin walked over and sat down on a bench near a large shrub with dried leaves and tiny red berries. He signaled for William to join him. The flags of Maranac waved in the breeze upon the distant ships anchored offshore. “If you want my honest opinion–”
“I do!”
“–then you shall have it.” He looked out upon the water, his mind and body relaxed for the first time in many grueling weeks. “I think, William, that you seek some sort of punishment for breaking your oath not because you feel guilty about that, but rather because you feel overwhelming guilt for not saving your brother’s life. Or maybe for having survived instead of him. Probably both. But I can’t offer you forgiveness for that because it is not mine to bestow upon you.” The King noted a look of disappointment upon his face. “Then again, I don’t think anyone could offer you such forgiveness because you truly do not need it.”
“But I feel terrible,” he muttered. “I just…”
“You’ll just have to live with it, Prince William. And now that you’re next in the line of succession for the throne of Montavia after your grandfather, you will have to get used to and live with a good many other things you’d rather not when you become king. It’s all part of the job, I’m afraid.”
“But I never wanted to be king or even imagined doing so,” he replied. “I always expected to happily serve King Brendan some day in whatever capacity he deemed appropriate and then have authority pass to one of his future sons or daughters years and years from now. That’s how it was supposed to work out.”
King Justin burst out in a brief, cheerful laugh. “That’s how it was supposed to work out indeed! If only, my boy. If only. You’ll be part of a very exclusive circle if you ever get your life to work out the way you want it to, William. Trust me. That would be quite an achievement.”
William slowly nodded and began to grin, feeling better that King Justin had been direct with him and addressed him as an adult. “So everything in life hasn’t worked out for you as planned either?”
“Dear m
e, no! I was supposed to be enjoying these later years with my wife, after all, strolling through the fruit orchards in springtime and spoiling our great grandchildren. Instead, I just fought a war here with probably one more on the way in Kargoth.” The King sighed with a slight smirk upon his lips. “Ah, well, let’s not go there just yet and spoil this delightful view of the lake. There’ll be other opportunities to shed tears over our regrets one day after this mess is settled–preferably while indulging in a bit of ale!”
William grunted in amusement as he leaned back on the bench and folded his arms, appreciating the sound of the King’s laughter and the subtle swish of the rhythmic waves upon the lakeshore. “I look forward to it,” he replied, closing his eyes for a moment as a cool breeze strummed against his cheeks and the cries of distant seagulls echoed hauntingly across the water.
For the remainder of that day and all the next, the work of tending to the sick, injured and burying the dead continued. The four remaining leaders of the forest Clearings–Eucádus, Ranen, Uland and Torr–were given permission to bury Jeremias in one of the north gardens with a stunning view of the mountains. They each spoke of their friend in a simple and private ceremony and hoped some day to travel back here with his wife, Rebecca, so she could visit his final resting place and see the lands he had helped to free.
The cleaning up along the docks and in parts of Melinas would carry on into winter as long as the heavy snow held off, though there would still be work to be done once spring made her reappearance. The ministers in King Basil’s court, after some cajoling, finally convinced Captain Silas to temporarily take the reins of power in Rhiál until a new line of succession could be formed. As one of King Basil’s most trusted officers and friends, he agreed.
“But only under the condition that I am not referred to as a king or monarch or any other such title,” he insisted. “I will retain my rank of captain. And most important of all, I want the people of Rhiál to know that this will only be a temporary measure.”
Nicholas Raven and the Wizards' Web (The Complete Epic Fantasy) Page 110
