Holco walked out from behind the curtain, on the stage, in view of the crowd, which edged closer to the two featured figures, Holco and the king. Theus invisibly stood near his friend on the stage, ready to provide any protection he might be able to deliver on Holco’s behalf.
“You are summoned to receive the king’s judgement,” the herald intoned loudly.
There was a dramatic pause, as the king sat with his head bowed.
He looked up, and stared at Holco with frosty eyes.
“After consultation with my Council of Advisors, regarding your involvement in the tragic circumstances that led to the death of Eudie, Prince of Stoke and heir to the throne, and Glock, trusted advisor to the king, along with the deaths of countless other loyal followers of the king, my judgement is,” he paused and took a deep breath. His eyes shifted to look down at the row of seats where his advisory council members sat and watched.
Then his eyes shifted back to look at Holco. “My judgement is that you are not guilty of involvement in their deaths. There shall be no penalty or sentence delivered against you.”
The crowd exploded in rambunctious reaction. There were shouts and hoots and clapping. Theus turned to look away from Holco and the king, while he walked to the edge of the stage to watch the audience’s explosion of energy.
“No!” Theus heard a militant bellow from someone on the stage behind him. A member of the king’s body guard had stepped out of position, his ceremonial uniform colorful and crisp. “My brother died in that fire at Greenfalls, and he deserves revenge!” the man shouted.
His hand was at his belt, and he pulled a knife free, which he threw at Holco, then he immediately swiveled in front of his startled fellow guardsmen, and threw his long, gleaming, ceremonial spear at the king.
Theus reacted instinctively. He dove in front of Holco as the twirling blade flew swiftly through the air, and then he felt a shock, as it struck him in the stomach. There seemed to be more screams and shouts of confusion, and then Theus felt himself striking the floor as he passed out.
Chapter 15
Theus awoke in a bed, his midsection ablaze with pain.
“You don’t remember, but we’ve been in this position before,” Coriae spoke tenderly in the dark interior of the bedroom they were in.
“You’re back in the former brothel that we call our home, and Holco is safe,” she told him. “I know you well enough to know those are your first two questions.”
Theus opened his eyes and looked at her. The room had a narrow strip of light, the result of curtains that didn’t close completely, and the strip of light happened to catch the tip of Coriae’s nose at the moment he saw her, before she slightly inclined her head to erase the image of her with a glowing nose.
Theus grinned sleepily.
“I have given you some medicine we had prepared by the local apothecary,” Coriae told him. “But I know that of course you have some miraculous remedy sitting on the tip of your tongue that will make you heal and recover ridiculously fast.”
It was true, he admitted. He had just been starting to recall the remedy he felt he needed for both healing and pain relief. He grinned again, as he let his eyes drift shut.
“I’m ready to take notes,” she told him.
He opened his eyes and saw that she held a pen in one hand, as a notebook sat upon her crossed knees.
“You know me too well. It’s scary,” he mumbled.
“We need scalewort, poppy seed, amethyst,” he read off a list of ingredients to Coriae, “and mix the two batches together,” he ended the instructions, wincing in pain.
“I’ll go get this for you right now,” she told him. She leaned down to kiss his forehead, just as they heard a brief knock at the door.
It immediately swung open, and a voice announced, “All hail, his majesty, the king.”
Theus’s eyes widened. Coriae rose to her feet. Theus looked over, and saw Holco entering the room.
“Thank goodness they took pity on you and didn’t say ‘all rise’,” Coriae gently mocked both Theus and Holco.
“Theus,” Holco stepped in past the herald and knelt next to the wounded man’s bed, “I owe you my life.
I never would have believed that someone would truly jump in front of a thrown weapon like that,” Holco said.
“You’re the king?” Theus asked weakly. “What happened on the stage?”
“It was yesterday, by the way, Theus,” Coriae offered new information.
“Well, that berserk guardsman killed the king and wounded you, before his own companions speared him to death. It turns out his shout was true; he did have a brother who was killed in the army at Greenfalls, and he had been talking about it in the barracks for weeks.
“The Advisory Council members were right there, of course, and saw it happen,” Holco explained, “and I believe there was some prodding by our friends, as it was obvious the king was dead.
“But I am King Leonade’s closest relative of my generation, and I had a great many persuasive voices speaking up for me while everyone was in shock, so they declared me the heir to the throne and coronated me right there on the spot,” Holco concluded.
“And after a hectic few hours, I wanted to come and personally thank you for saving my life,“ he finished.
“Are you keeping him well-medicated?” the sovereign asked Coriae.
“We are, and we’re about to do better. He’s given me his own list of items needed for a suitable remedy, so I’m about to go have this mixed, with your majesty’s permission,” she spoke in a subservient tone, but the flash in her eyes indicated that she intended to do as she wished, regardless of Holco’s possible indication to the contrary.
“By all means,” he motioned, and she slipped past him, then out of the room.
Theus listened to a few minutes of further kindly-meant conversation with Holco, but was glad when the young king announced that he would have to return to the palace.
“It was my idea to have you sent here for care; I knew Coriae would take better care of you than anyone else in the world,” he said with a soft pat on Theus’s shoulder. “I hope I’ll hear good reports on your progress soon,” he smiled, and then he and his small entourage were gone, the door to the bedroom was closed, and Theus was alone in restful silence.
Theus rested and recovered for the next two days in his bed, as Coriae diligently watched over him and tended him.
“I want you to know that I’m not engaged to Klermie or anyone else while I’m taking care of you,” she told on more than one occasion, then giggled. It was a reference to their times past, he learned, one that she explained sheepishly the first time he asked, then laughed at thereafter.
On his third day of convalescence, he rose from his bed and tended to his own personal needs, determined to preserve some personal dignity. Coriae insisted she had tended to him in their prior life together in just as delicate a manner.
“And you had your secret thrill ‘hiding’ me during my bath, don’t forget,” she had told him. “Don’t think I don’t remember where your hands were, even if I didn’t say anything at the time. And the fact that you wiped my under-blouse all about your own face – all the gods blushed at that, I’m sure,” she told him, with exaggerated prudishness.
He grinned at her unorthodox mixture of coquettish and primly proper manners while she cared for him, but he felt the genuine affection the noblewoman held for him, and he knew that he was falling under her spell. Whatever had happened between them in the relationship whose memories had been torn from his soul, she had learned how best to deal with him in a way that he was comfortable with, and she was as well.
At the close of the third day, she walked him down the stairs to the dining room, and they ate dinner at the table as the full staff of the home seemed to flutter over and about them to cater to their needs, anxious to help the invalid hero.
She told him then about the unrest in the city.
“There is a branch of the extended royal family th
at is contesting the selection of Holco to rise to the throne,” Coriae told him as they sipped wine. “There was a royal cousin named Monsant; do you remember anything about him?” she was studying him carefully as she waited for his reply.
The name seemed familiar, but Theus’s doughnut-holed memory provided him with no memories.
“He,” she paused and looked away, and remained a study in anguished silence for a long span of time, as Theus listened to her heavy breathing, puzzled at first, then compassionate for the pain he sensed she was reliving.
“Monsant was cruel, he was evil, and he believed he could flaunt his cruelty without challenge because he was a member of the royal family. And for a long time, he was right,” she said, staring at a spot on the wall, off to the side.
“I had a friend, a girl from a family close to ours, named Janiae,” Coriae explained. “She was my best friend. Until Monsant came to Great Forks for the summer Festival of Gelate. He saw Janiae – she was beautiful,” Coriae said in an aside, glancing at Theus finally, momentarily.
“He insisted that she go out with him, and so she did a few times, but she wasn’t happy, I knew. And finally, one night, she didn’t come home, and her body was found in the harbor the next morning. Monsant claimed he didn’t know what had happened to her, and a handful of his followers insisted he had been with them all night,” Coriae said.
“I was shocked, and sad, and frightened. I left home, left Great Forks, and went away to Greenfalls for a while, because towards the end of his time with Janiae, Monsant had been trying to establish a relationship with me as well, and I didn’t want that,” she continued to explain. “And when I went to Greenfalls to celebrate Currense’s Rainbow Festival, I met you there for the first time, and I saw Klermie there too,” her last phrase sounded obligatory, not interesting.
“Eventually I was back in Great Forks, and you were in Great Forks, and Monsant returned to Great Forks, and he resumed pursuing me. So I finally relented and agreed to go out with him for the next summer Festival of Gelate.
“And that’s when I killed him,” the statement was made without boast or bombast or bravado. “He tried to assault me that night, and I fought back. And as you know from staves and practicing, I can fight back, quite well.”
She was finally staring at him, making eye contact once again.
“I killed him,” she said tonelessly, “and Forgon helped me get away before I was caught. There was a trial to try to blame it on Forgon, but you saved the day and set him free.”
He remembered that, as she said it. He remembered a trial and a memory stone, and Forgon walking free, but little else.
“I knew I should have told you before, but I never did. I kept some secrets from you when you were the old you, the you who knew me. I don’t want to have secrets from you anymore; you deserve to know that I’ve killed a man, and been engaged,” she was confessing to him, he realized, in a very deliberate manner. Her words had started rolling out. Perhaps she hadn’t initially intended to expose herself so completely, but she had stepped onto that path, and traveled it.
Coriae ceased to speak.
“It sounds like you had reason to do what you did,” he told her. He couldn’t judge her, not at the moment, not with what little he knew. If she was so trusting that she could reveal herself to him in such a manner, he would respect her trust.
“We won’t ever speak of it again,” he offered the words as a pledge of peace.
“You can if you want to, if you need to ask anything,” Coriae insisted.
Theus shook his head gently ‘no’. “Tell the rest of the story about Holco, and why you brought up this Monsant,” he suggested. He reached out and took her hand in one of his.
“Well, Monsant fathered an illegitimate son on some minor noble’s daughter he had seduced, or worse,” Coriae began, “and Monsant’s branch is claiming that the bastard should be the heir to the throne, with them serving as regents until he comes of age.”
“Why would the court even consider such a situation?” Theus asked incredulously.
“The Monsant branch is courting the merchants to support their claim to the throne,” Coriae explained. “The merchants are upset because the rupture with Greenfalls has cut their trade considerably. The Monsant clan claim they can restore trade quickly, and the merchants are listening to them.
“Holco doesn’t have an answer because he doesn’t want to make empty promises he can’t keep,” Coriae told Theus. “So now the Advisory Council is waffling, claiming that the appointment of Holco may only be provisional, subject to confirmation.”
Theus listened and thought. He was nearly healed, and thinking with trepidation of his need to finally move forward in his journey to Southsand. But the teetering situation in Stoke sounded like it legitimately deserved his involvement, at least for a few days.
“If Holco could produce a treaty with Greenfalls, the merchants would support him as the king?” Theus asked.
“I would think so,” Coriae answered. “You should ask him tomorrow. The Council is hard to understand; they never would have acted so boldly under the old king, but the rules are all broken now, it seems.”
That night, after dinner, Coriae insisted on dosing Theus with his medicine, even though he insisted he was well enough to treat himself. And after his medical treatment was finished, they kissed on the lips with passion on both their parts, leaving them each slightly breathless and grinning foolishly when Coriae left Theus’s room for the evening.
“How do we go about seeing Holco today?” Theus asked his hostess in the morning, when they ate breakfast.
“He’s at the palace, but I don’t think you can just barge in and expect to talk. What is so urgent?” she asked as she sipped her tea.
“I could go to Greenfalls and ask them to negotiate a contract or agreement or something,” Theus told her. “I can go quickly.”
“It’s called a treaty,” she spoke absentmindedly. “You could go quickly, couldn’t you? How fast could you be there?”
“I think I could be there in less than a day, maybe by lunch time,” he ventured. “I could ask Alsman and Eiren if they would negotiate a treaty with Holco, and come back. Would that help?”
“I think you should go see Holco right away and ask him if he’d like for you to do that. Are you sure you’re healthy enough to make this trip?” she asked.
“I think so. If it wearies me, I’ll come back tomorrow instead of today,” he suggested nonchalantly. “I’ll go get dressed and go to the palace now,” he stood, and then headed up the stairs to his bathing room.
When he arrived at the palace less than an hour later, he was admitted at the gate, but held up from entering the private accommodations of the new king. Feeling impish and carefree, Theus turned invisible, then walked into the residential wing of the palace, and found Holco in a work room, talking to advisors about the state of the finances.
“Can I talk to you now?” Theus threw his voice to Holco, whose head jerked up and turned to look around the room.
“Are you in here now? Is this private or urgent?” he asked.
“Yes, your majesty, we are here now,” one of the men sitting near him answered, as he mistakenly assumed Holco was speaking to him.
Theus released his invisibility spell, and became the subject of shouts and gasps as he emerged into view.
“Coriae, daughter of the house of Warrell, tells me that you might want a treaty with Greenfalls. I can travel there and back in a day, and I know their leaders, so I wanted to offer to help you,” Theus spoke, as all eyes focused on him.
“This man can travel to Greenfalls in a day?” one of the advisors asked dismissively, scorn in his voice.
“If he says so, then it’s true. He’s the world’s only white magician,” Holco replied quickly.
“I will go there today if you want me to ask them to speak to you,” Theus informed the room, his eyes on Holco.
“Do we have a scribe who can take dictation for a letter
that we would like delivered to the leaders of Greenfalls?” Holco asked.
“They’re traitors! We don’t have to tell them anything except to prepare to stand trial for treason,” one of the advisors said staunchly.
“The merchants don’t want us to treat them as traitors,” Holco said mildly. “The last governor was so corrupt, from everything we’ve learned, it’s no wonder they rebelled against him; and he’s fled from Stoke itself and gone the-gods-know-where. And god rest their souls, the soldiers in the army we sent went there expecting to deliver hostilities – we just weren’t prepared to receive them.
“But the merchants, so I’m told, are anxious for peace to be restored with Greenfalls. Isn’t that so?” the king asked.
“Isn’t it so?” Holco pressed the question when the advisor maintained a sullen silence.
“Yes, your majesty,” the man begrudgingly agreed.
“So have a scribe prepare a letter proposing some terms for the appointment of a new governor, and ask that we be allowed to send a negotiator to discuss the terms immediately,” Holco directed. “How quickly can we expect this process to take?” he asked Theus.
“Do you want me to carry your negotiator to Greenfalls for you?” Theus asked.
“You can do that?” Holco asked. “As quickly as you propose to travel on your own?”
“I believe so,” Theus answered. “Unless circumstances work against me somehow.”
“Yes by all means,” Holco agreed. “We’ll have a letter for you to take today, and by the time you return, we should have our negotiator selected and ready to travel. Is that acceptable?” he asked politely, with a wink to Theus.
“Yes, your majesty. I’ll go to the Warrell mansion to prepare to travel, and be back here soon,” he bowed to Holco, then took his leave of the room by conventional means. He heard a hubbub of conversation erupt in the room once the door closed behind him, and he grinned at the thought of the disruption he had caused – hopefully in Holco’s favor.
Tangled Engagements (The Memory Stones Series Book 4) Page 18
