Outside Oran hesitated, he glanced both ways down the hall before catching up to them. Their escort fell in behind with matching steps.
“I thought Coran would be here,” the Lord of Tyelin stated with some concern.
Katelyn shared a knowing glance with Alys. They were the only two people in Summerhall who knew where he was. They hoped that was the case. As agreed they were going to give them as much of a lead as possible before anyone found out. When it came time where they had to give an answer they would say he was on his way to Tyelin. She didn’t want to lie to anyone, but the alternative was too great a risk. “I am sure he is around somewhere. You were saying something about your investigation?” she said to change the subject. They reached the doors to the great hall and stopped.
Two blue uniformed guards flanked the tall doors. There were also four men in the armor and golden cloaks of the Knights of Soros. Martin was one of them. By custom and for caution they were to escort her up the aisle to the throne.
Master Herrith was waiting for them next to the doors as well. “Are you ready, Your Majesty?”
“In a moment.” She turned to face Oran. “You were saying?”
“Gelarus also believes that the poison was given to your father more than once. That is why it was difficult to diagnose.”
She was in a hurry and he was plodding his way towards something he was reluctant to say. “Just say what you think happened.”
He nodded. “I believe the assassin has to be someone we know well. Probably very well.”
“Any idea who?” she asked in surprise. Who did she know that could be capable of such a thing? Everyone had loved her father, at least around here they did. Oran had to be mistaken.
“I do not know yet,” he stated. “I just thought you should be aware of it.”
She stared at the doors. “Thank you. Let me know when you have more.” It was something to think about, but right now she had to deal with what was beyond the doors. “Master Herrith. I am ready.”
The bald headed man slipped through the doors and slowly the buzz of conversations died away. Oran went inside as well to find a place to watch the ceremony. Martin arranged his four in a square surrounding her as the doors swung ponderously outward. She stepped into the hall and the silence in the room was total.
The hall was packed with all the gathered nobles of the Plain. They lined the floor from wall to wall. Only a narrow corridor ran up the center of the hall to the far side. She stepped onto the blue carpet that ran up the open space to the dais and the throne at the far end. She kept her face looking ahead, but could make out the people she passed. They were all dressed in their finest for the occasion. Women were adorned with sparkling diamonds and expensive jewelry. Katelyn actually stood out with her modest appearance. Not all were actually of noble blood. Many were merchants or financiers who had wealth and power to match many. Noble or not they watched on with approval as she walked regally forward in a measured pace that neither gained nor lagged on the two Knights she followed. The people of the Plain took special pride in their King or Queen since they not only ruled the Plain, but headed the Alliance. That was one reason for the success of Summerhall. While other kingdoms had had their minor rebellions or disgruntled Lords, no one of the Plain had ever reneged on their oath, not since the Brother’s Rebellion anyway. It had made the difference in larger wars of the past.
There were very few people in the hall with whom she was as tall, or taller than, and they were all women. Yet when she saw their faces it appeared that they were looking up at her.
She reached the end of the carpet and took the step up to the dais. The arms and back of the throne were framed with gold and the seat and back were lined in blue. She stopped before the seat and turned to gaze over the crowd. Martin and his escort spread out to position themselves between the dais and the crowd. They stood almost casually with hands crossed before them, but she knew Martin, they would be watching the crowd for any possible threat like circling hawks watching the ground for prey.
She sat down on the throne that was her birthright. Gelarus approached her left side from behind and Herrith from the right carrying a blue cushion with golden tassels. The crown of Summerhall indented itself into the soft velvet. It was a circle of pure gold sized for a woman. Her father’s crown was taken into safe keeping until a High King sat once again on the throne. The crown had five half circles that rose above the larger circle itself, each one had an etched sun on it. The crown was not made to be ostentatious, so it was kept simple, without the adornment of jewels. It was an old crown dating from the first woman to be born with the mark of the sun over eight hundred years ago. Katarina Sundarrion had also been the spark that ignited the Suitor’s War. Herrith and Gelarus met in front of her as well as the head of the Priests of the Light. The priest took hold of the crown in both hands and raised it up. Master Herrith backed away out of her sight.
“By the will of the Creator you have been marked as the rightful heir to the High Throne of the Sun!” the Priest announced to the crowd. He spoke loud enough for everyone to hear. “I crown thee Katelyn Sundarrion, High Queen of Summerhall!” He set the golden crown carefully upon her head. It was not as heavy as she thought it would be, but still it would take some getting used to. The Priest backed away slowly.
Gelarus took a step forward, he bowed to the new Queen then turned toward the assemblage. “Hail, Katelyn!” the wizard shouted in a voice that carried to the farthest corner of the hall.
The gathered throng shouted their approval. “Hail Katelyn! Hail the Queen of Summer!”
The great cry shook the very walls.
Next came the oaths of fealty in a ceremony as old as Summerhall, or maybe much older than that, as old as Midia. One by one they came before her, the most powerful first. They went to one knee, took her hand and swore their loyalty to the Queen. Lord Thomas of Stockton knelt before her with a smile on his large face. He was a slightly overlarge man with dark brown hair and a clean shaven face. She remembered him as a kind man. His oaths were sincere and filled with pride. After him came the very distinguished looking Essander, Lord of Arryvestra. He was followed by Terence Sundarrion of Delios, a good looking man with light hair and a twinkle in his eye. Seftin Chassard of Ostis, a great lover of the sea and charged with the defense of the coast, bellowed his oath in the same tone he gave orders aboard ship. Oran, who had already given his oath, did so again for all to see.
After him came the next tier of Lords of the Plain; Semprin Tertirian, a lean man who sported a warrior’s tail common among the mountain lords, the youthful Justin Darbonne, the elderly Harold Kontney, the pointy nosed Orvick Harthorn, Edwin Nicander with the sides of his head streaked with gray, the short, dark haired, dark eyed, Stefen Idalion whose appearance betrayed his Ithanian ancestry.
With them came their wives, the Ladies of the Plain; the sharp faced Maryssa Arryvestra, Lavonda Harthorn with eyes that seemed too close together, Sharella Stockton with her striking blue-gray eyes, she was Thomas’ daughter, his wife being dead, curly haired Katrina Chassard who offered a sincere smile, Joyann Sundarrion who matched her husband in looking distinguished, and many more.
After that the faces started to become a blur. Most were respectful, many seemed pleased and a few outright happy. A few Lords and Ladies later she faced the opposite. Lord Meneroe, who had sent his daughter Alys here to learn the ways of court, had a beak of a nose on his unforgiving face. His hair was speckled with gray and he wore a rich black coat over a white silk shirt. His gaze was penetrating and she returned it in kind, her lips pressed tightly together. His oath was barely audible and it sounded distant, uncaring, like he was reporting on the days revenues. She was relieved when he finally released her hand and stepped down.
She was tired from sitting still as an hour turned into two. With all the people there it was not unexpected to find that she did not recognize them all. Some she would know by face or name alone. The next man to come forward was one of those. She
was sure that she had never seen him before. His clothes were of the finest tailoring, and his fingers were bedecked in jeweled rings. His hair was tied back in a tail. As he started to kneel she noticed something odd about the man. Offsetting his rich appearance were his eyes and the way he knelt. It was not the practiced grace of the nobles who had proceeded him. She saw his hand near his belt and knew what it held.
“Knife!” she shouted the first word that came to mind.
The man hesitated for a fraction of a second at her shout, then lashed towards her with the knife. She saw the glint of light that reflected off the steel point as it closed with her chest. Martin reached him first. He knocked them both to the ground in a tangled heap, they struggled over the knife. One of the other Knights reached down and took it away from the attacker. In a moment they had the man under control.
She took a second to calm herself before speaking. “Commander, take him somewhere to be questioned, and see to it that no one except you or I are allowed to see him.” Martin put a fist to his chest and ordered two of his men to take the prisoner away. She surveyed the stunned faces that peered back at her from around the hall. This was not a time to show weakness, not after being freshly crowned. “Let us continue,” she commanded and the next person in line, a woman with far too much rouge on her face stumbled over the step and nearly fell in kneeling.
Katelyn kept her face blank, cool even, as the last of the nobles swore their oaths. When they were done she stood to signify an end to the ceremony and closely escorted by Martin, left the hall.
Loras saw the Knights guarding the room where their prisoner was being kept until he could be questioned. The whole thing was unbelievable. Who could have done such a thing? He had been on edge himself for a long time and this just made it worse. He had to know who was behind the attack.
As he approached the door a hand was held out to stop them. “You cannot go in there.”
Loras stared at the man incredulously. “I am the Captain of the guards. This happened in the palace so it is my responsibility to question him.” He tried to reach for the door, but was barred again.
“My orders are from the Queen herself,” the Knight stated evenly. The threat was clear if he continued to try and enter the room.
Loras had no choice but to turn away.
With Martin, Oran and another of the Knights flanking her, Katelyn approached the guarded room. The Knights at the door she recognized from some of the inspections she had given. They saluted with fists to chests.
“Has anyone tried to enter?” she asked them.
“Captain Loras, your Majesty,” one of them answered.
That was interesting, but not very unusual since he was the Captain of the guards. “Did you let him in?”
“No, your Majesty,” the same one answered. “He was rather insistent, but I informed him of your wishes.”
“Thank you. If you would open the door now.”
They complied, but what they found was not what was expected. The assassin was dead. “Did you search him?” Martin asked quickly. They both nodded for an answer. The Commander went into the room and checked the body closely. He looked up at his Queen. “I would have to guess that he poisoned himself.”
“Then he is not a professional assassin.” Oran stated. He saw her questioning look and explained further. “A man who kills for a living is concerned with money, or the excitement of it. Being caught is part of the job. He would not kill himself for one failure.”
“I agree.” Martin added as he stood. “He killed himself out of loyalty.”
“Or fear,” she put in herself.
“Or fear,” Martin agreed. “I will have the clothing and body examined. We should be able to learn something from them.”
“Good,” she stated, trying to think. There was a connection here someplace if she could just find it. Something between her father being poisoned and her attack. Unless they found something concerning this man all they had to go on, however thin, was Loras’ visit. “Lord Oran, does your current investigation include Captain Loras?” She didn’t have to explain what she meant.
“He could be considered, yes.”
“Then put him at the top of your list,” she decided. “Since it involves the guards I suggest you ask Commander Martin for help if that becomes necessary.”
“Do you think he is involved somehow?” Martin asked.
“I do not know,” she replied.
“Then I suggest having the Knights take over the duties of your personal protection until we know for sure.” Martin suggested strongly.
“I concur.” Oran added.
“Make it so,” she ordered. If she could trust anyone it would be the Knights. Turning her head she was reminded of the weight on her brow and almost took off the crown. “I am going to my rooms. Have your men picked out and on station before I leave them,” she told Martin. “I will leave this to you.” She indicated the body before turning to leave. She wished that Coran had not gone off again.
Alys hurried out of the hall after Katelyn, but in the push of the crowd she couldn’t reach her friend. Further away from the doors the number of people lessened and she could finally get clear. Not seeing which way Katelyn had gone, she decided to await the Queen in her chambers, but before going more than ten paces down the polished stone floor a hand grabbed her arm tightly and pulled her into a recessed doorway. They were ignored by the passing nobles who chattered with each other over the events in the throne room.
“...should find who was behind it and ...” a woman with curly blonde hair and a green and red silk gown was saying as she walked by.
“...could have been a Voltian..” another was saying in a black dress.
“No!” the man’s voice responded in shock. “Even they would not go so far. Why I think....” His speculating was lost down the hall.
Alys looked into the hard and familiar features of her father. She pulled her arm away roughly to break his grip on it. She rubbed it to get the feel of his fingers off her skin.
“Alys, you appear to be doing well here,” he said and stepped in front of her to block her view of the passersby.
“I am trying, Father,” she replied shrinking away from those eyes until her back ran into the wood of the door behind her.
He stepped closer to keep the distance between them less than a foot. “That is good to hear. I have had some intriguing offers for you. The Lord of Nirone seems particularly interested.”
She winced internally. The Lord of Nirone was at least sixty. His wife had died only recently if she remembered correctly. Of, course she was wise enough not to say anything to her father. “That is good news. Have you made a decision already? I thought that I would be here for another year?”
“Not to worry. The more I make him wait the better the offer.” Her father smiled thinly and she shuddered. “That is not why I wish to speak to you though. I hear that you have become quite close with our young Queen?”
“Yes, Father. We are friends,” she said and wondered if that was the wrong thing to say from the way his mouth turned down into a frown. “Is there a problem?”
“That depends on you.” He leaned in closer until their noses were almost touching. “Do I need to remind you of where your loyalties lie?”
She shook her head vigorously. “No, Father.”
He backed up a bit and checked the hall nearby in both directions. “Your family must come first, even before any loyalty you may feel towards your friend.”
“But, Father, since she is the Queen why should there be any conflict?” she asked and regretted speaking up when his eyes filled with anger.
“There may come a time when you must choose, when I may need you to do something that will be in the best interest of house Meneroe. Should I be questioning your loyalty? Maybe sending you here was a mistake after all. Perhaps I should take you home with me when I leave if your sense of duty has been so misplaced.”
“No, Father,” she spoke quickly. The one thing that
had to be avoided was leaving here. “I will do what you say,” she stated meekly.
He stared into her face for several minutes until he was satisfied that she was telling him the truth. His smile was sudden, and it left her frightened. “We will speak again before I go.”
“Yes, Father,” she said and watched him step back, and turn to the right as he walked away. She let out an explosive breath. What would she do if she had to choose between her family and her father on one side, and her friend who was also her Queen on the other? The memory of years doing exactly what she was told to do flooded back into her mind. No one defied her father without suffering severe consequences.
The golden crown was unceremoniously placed on the cushioned chair of the sitting room. Katelyn plopped herself down in the other chair and sighed with relief. All the bowing and kneeling in the halls was getting on her nerves. Luckily there wouldn’t be as much when she wasn’t actually wearing the crown, and she planned on informal attire as much as she could get away with. The circle of carved gold was traditionally worn for official proceedings or possibly when she was outside the palace. Her feeling of relief was not for that alone, she also wanted to just sit away from all the watching eyes. Trying to maintain a calm outward appearance after someone tried to kill her was exhausting emotionally.
She looked up at the sound of the door opening and saw Alys enter and close the door behind her. The young woman was pale in the face and her long, brown hair was out of place in a few spots, which was not like her at all. Alys always tried to appear the lady that she wanted to be. She did make an exception for when she was out with Devon of course. Katelyn also noticed that her hands were shaking slightly.
“What is wrong?” Katelyn asked with concern.
Alys failed to meet her eyes, they moved about the room gazing at everything but her. “Nothing. I am just upset by the attack on you.” She came closer and finally met her eyes. “Are you all right?”
Fire And Ice (Book 1) Page 46
