The Prime began to pace, all previous concerns forgotten. He would have Goth and the woman Xantia in his dungeons once more and would personally escort the former Chief Inquisitor to the pyre to burn.
‘Do you think they will still be in Caradoon?’
Saxon snorted. ‘Would you be?’
Herek’s expression was thunderous but he remained silent so Saxon continued.
‘It’s still worth pursuing. You can start at the stracca den. If the scent is still warm, your men can chase it and hound him down until there’s nowhere left to run. If you put out word of a rich reward in Caradoon, I’ll wager you will receive informants. They’re all vermin in that town and a secret is only safe until the price is high enough.’
Herek nodded thoughtfully. ‘And you, Saxon, where do you go?’
‘I’m off to see a man about a bird,’ the Kloek replied cryptically. He gripped Herek’s hand in the Tallinese manner. ‘I will see you again, Prime.’
Herek returned the grip. ‘Make it soon.’
After much searching, Saxon finally tracked Alyssa down to the King’s quarters. With the permission of the King’s old valet, he waited in the small entrance room to the suite of chambers. Alyssa emerged from the King’s study.
‘Saxon! You’re back.’ Not caring for protocol, the King’s personal secretary flew to embrace the huge Kloek. The valet arched his eyebrows but, with his usual discretion in all private matters, turned away and went about his business.
‘Not for long,’ Saxon said, hugging her hard.
She pulled a face as he set her back down on the ground.
‘Is there somewhere we can talk?’ He cocked his head towards the valet.
‘Don’t worry about him. Come over here. We can sit at this window seat. Now, tell me everything about that Caradoon place.’
He looked into her wide, concerned eyes and took her hand. ‘I saw him.’
Alyssa blinked slowly as she absorbed what he had just said. ‘You saw Goth?’
He nodded.
‘Could you have been mistaken?’ Her voice was small.
‘Goth is too distinctive to confuse with anyone else.’
‘Can someone corroborate this? Who else saw him?’
‘Only I from the Shield, though another did—’
They were disturbed by the valet who was carrying a tray with two drinks on it. ‘I thought you may enjoy sharing a cup with your visitor, Miss Alyssa.’ He bowed.
Alyssa smiled. ‘Koryn, how kind. Thank you, I am thirsty.’
The man bowed slightly again and left them.
Saxon looked into his cup. ‘Ale! You drink ale?’
‘Only old Koryn knows how much I love the stuff. I have a cup of it around midday when most of the palace is at their noon meal.’ She could not help a conspiratorial grin spreading across her face.
Saxon was pleased to see it. ‘Good health,’ he said.
Alyssa responded in kind and they both took a long draught of the ale.
Her face became serious again. ‘You were saying…about who else saw Goth…?’ she prompted.
‘Yes.’ He noticed how pale she looked. Could she take this news? But he was too far into this conversation to pull out now. ‘I saw Cloot watching him also.’
Although he had readied himself for some sort of reaction, he had not counted on such stillness.
‘Cloot?’ she whispered, as though hearing the name for the first time.
Saxon remained quiet.
‘And did he know you?’
‘He flew to me, Alyssa. See this scratch at my ear?’ She nodded. ‘He did this to warn me. He sat at my shoulder and we watched the stracca den where Goth lay inside losing his senses.’
She looked at him without understanding.
He shrugged in his unique Kloekish way. ‘It’s a leaf. People smoke it. Very addictive. Dulls the mind like no liquor can.’
Alyssa nodded. ‘Tell me about Cloot.’
‘I believe he was there to track down Goth. He found him before I did. Perhaps, like me, he had worked out that Caradoon seemed just the sort of place where two lowlifes could hide for a while.’
Alyssa began to weep softly. ‘You’re sure?’
‘That it was Cloot? No other falcon would be so tame. He even managed to flap his wings in response to my questions. It was him all right.’
Alyssa wiped her eyes on her sleeve and composed herself. ‘That’s happy news then,’ she said finally. ‘And what of Goth? Is he a threat still?’
He took her in his arms and hugged her hard. He could see she needed to feel his strength and safety.
‘Sallementro and I are here to protect you, not to mention the Shield and the elite warriors of the King’s Guard. You have nothing to fear from Goth,’ he promised her. He felt like a traitor, for he did not believe a word of it. He cleared his throat. ‘I have to go back to Caradoon tomorrow.’
‘Again!’ She paused and sipped her drink before continuing. ‘You’re going to finish off Goth once and for all, aren’t you?’
‘No, sadly. I have to find Cloot. He was captured by traders and I fear he may already be off the mainland and on his way to the Exotic Isles.’
‘Why did you come back without killing Goth first?’
Saxon felt the guilt of his decision bite. ‘They beat me unconscious and drove me by cart far from Caradoon. When I came to, I realised I was closer to the main Shield group and you than to the pirate town. It made sense to return and give you this news.’
‘Goth is no longer your priority, is he?’ she asked, already knowing the answer.
He shook his head. ‘No, Alyssa. I am leaving Goth to Herek and his men. I must go in search of Cloot of the Paladin.’
They were not together much longer and spent what time there was talking about Gyl. Saxon took his leave soon afterwards, hugging Alyssa fiercely and promising to return with Tor’s falcon.
After he had left her, Alyssa returned to the King’s study, even more distracted than she had felt before she left it.
‘But I don’t know how to fight, Saxon. I am a musician!’
Saxon sighed. ‘Sallementro,’ he said heavily, ‘I am not asking you to fight. I am asking you to protect her. You are her second-bonded Paladin. You were not picked out by the gods for your vocal talent alone, exquisite though it may be.’
They both smiled. This was old ground; a path they had trodden many times before.
The musician spoke softly. ‘Yes, it is a notion I repeat to myself time and again. If I am one of the Paladin, then one must presume I have already suffered great pain to be here now.’
Saxon nodded gently. ‘You can be sure of it. This is your destiny. You and I are bonded to Alyssa and must give our lives for her. We are all blind in this, Sallementro. None of us knows what will occur. All we know is that we will do whatever we can to keep our charges safe. Now, I must go and find Cloot. He is in serious danger, I fear.’
‘I will keep her safe.’
Saxon touched Sallementro on the shoulder. ‘I know you will. And the boy—keep Gyl safe too.’
The two men embraced.
‘How long will you be gone?’
The Kloek shrugged. ‘I’m hoping to return swiftly but Cloot has been stolen from the mainland, which probably means a journey across the seas and who knows what awaits me there. The sun is high already; I must be gone. It will take me many days to get back to the north and there is weather closing in.’
Sallementro was about to say that he too had heard that grim weather was predicted for the coming days when the palace bells began to toll. Neither man had heard that ominous sound since the announcement of Torkyn Gynt’s execution. Without another word they began to run, joining the dozens of men, women and children who had emerged from the palace and were rushing as fast as they could towards the main courtyard.
Gyl came careening down a flight of stairs and bundled straight into Saxon, knocking three or four others with him.
‘Strike me, lad!’
cursed Saxon.
Gyl began apologising to all and helped one of the cooks to her feet. Saxon looked back at the stairs and realised Gyl had jumped the entire flight. All that training was working.
Together the three men pushed through the crowd, Saxon first, strongly shouldering his way through to the front. Despite the numbers of people, a shocked silence hung over the courtyard.
Lying on the flagstones, her head supported by a folded cloak, was Queen Nyria. She was very still. Her skin looked waxen and a trickle of blood ran from behind her ear and soaked into the pale velvet of her cloak. The King was kneeling beside her, his face contorted with grief.
He looked up and stretched out his arms. ‘Won’t someone help her?’ he pleaded.
The King’s most loyal servant, Koryn, put his mottled, bony fingers on the King’s shoulders and squeezed gently. He whispered directly into the griefstricken man’s ear. ‘My liege, she has gone to the Light.’
Lorys roared aloud in his agony. He picked up the Queen’s limp body and pulled it to his chest. Now all in the yard could see just how drenched with blood her cloak was.
The Queen of Tallinor was surely dead.
No one moved. All were too shocked to speak. Then a lone voice called out and a woman pushed through the crowd. Saxon immediately recognised Alyssa’s voice and Gyl moved towards her just as she broke through and froze, taking in the ugly scene.
Weeping, she kneeled beside her King and her Queen, close enough to hear what the sovereign was mumbling over and over into Nyria’s bloodied ear.
‘I am punished for my sins,’ he wept.
8
Shrouded in Violet
Tal was in mourning. As they had done for centuries when a royal passed into the Light, the Tallinese shrouded their city in violet; the colour reserved for death. As a sign of respect, shopkeepers draped violet over their doorways, most of the houses had pennants of violet hanging from their windows and people stitched a patch of the colour onto their garments. Little girls even put the fresh flowers in their hair. The city, indeed the Kingdom, would wear the violet for two moon cycles.
The palace itself had descended into a frigid silence. Only essential duties were carried out and the kitchen prepared traditional mourning fare: bland and meagre. The palace occupants would eat this basic diet until the Queen’s body was cremated.
For three days and nights she would lie in state, laid out on a cold bed of stone in the chapel where her subjects could bid their final farewells. Word of Nyria’s death had spread like fire and people descended in their hundreds on the capital. The King had released money to provide food for the many who had come from so far on so little to see their Queen for the last time.
And this was where Alyssa found herself, praying, watching, weeping with the Tallinese. She had tried to keep up the school hours but none of her pupils could concentrate. By the second morning she had given up, dismissed the two classes and sent the children back to their quarters. With Lorys shut up in his chambers, receiving no visitors, speaking to no one, she had nothing to do.
Gyl escaped the bleak days by volunteering to go into the hills with Herek and some of the King’s Guard for drills and training.
Saxon had left the city altogether. He had remained with her longer than he had wanted to and finally Alyssa had told him to be on his way. He could do nothing to help and she knew that the loss of Cloot cut him far deeper than the loss of a Queen. He had left yesterday and she had cried bitterly, wondering whether she would lose him too.
Only Sallementro remained close but he was so involved in preparing the music for her majesty’s funeral service that Alyssa could not count on his companionship right now. And so she sat alone in the shadows of the chapel and grieved, wondering what would happen to palace life now that it had lost its jewel.
She watched a young couple grieve at the sight of their dead Queen and she was reminded of the depth of grief she had felt at losing Tor. Alyssa had never thought she would fall in love again or feel the desire to hold her body close against a man and enjoy his touch. But Lorys had reawakened those feelings and she wept as she remembered, just a few moons ago, wishing the Queen did not exist and Lorys was hers.
And now the Queen was dead. That wish had been answered.
Alyssa hated herself.
She watched more and more people filing through the chapel, shocked and distraught. Many of them had seen their Queen in the flesh only a short time previous during the royal tour. Radiant and elegant as always, Nyria had touched their hearts and shown her joy at being amongst them. They had responded with love. And now her body lay cold before them.
It was faithful Herek who told Alyssa what had happened the day of the Queen’s death. As usual, he had taken the morning ride with his King and that particular day the Queen had decided to ride with them, as she often did. She had fainted during a gallop across the moors, had fallen from her fleet-footed horse, Freycin, and struck her head on a rock. A similar incident had occurred when Torkyn Gynt was under-physic at the palace, but that time Gynt had revitalised the Queen’s heart and saved her life. Whether the Queen’s heart had failed again, or whether it was the blow to her head which killed her, no one would ever know, but she was dead before Herek and the King had dismounted and rushed to her side.
Herek confided to Alyssa how the King had screamed Nyria’s name for an hour or more. The Prime had not dared to suggest they return to the palace until Lorys had found some level of composure.
‘He suddenly stopped,’ Herek had said. ‘He mounted his stallion, asked for the Queen to be placed in his arms and then allowed the horse to lead them back to the palace at its own pace. Fortunately, I saw a stableboy walking one of the horses. I told him to hurry back to the palace with my order for the bells of alarm to be sounded.’
That was all Alyssa knew. She had yet to speak with the King since that morning when it seemed she was the last at the palace to discover the tragedy. She had busied herself since in making arrangements for the public cremation. Tallinese tradition demanded that the body be cremated within three days of death; beyond the fourth night it was believed that the soul of the dead would be unable to find the Light and would be doomed to forever roam in darkness.
Lorys would never risk this for his Queen. Nyria would be cremated on the third day.
9
A Secret Revealed
Alyssa saw Lorys at the funereal feast although she still did not exchange a word with him. She could see that the King was gritting his teeth throughout the ceremony and he made an early departure.
Later, young Edwyd, the King’s page, brought her an unexpected message.
‘He has asked for me?’ she repeated, knowing it was foolish. That was what the boy had just said.
‘He wishes to see you now, Miss Alyssa,’ Edwyd repeated.
‘I shall tidy myself and come immediately,’ she said, standing.
Sallementro, who was singing a tragic love song to the gathering, looked over towards her. She shook her head and blew him a kiss. She would talk to him later.
Alyssa knocked softly at the main door to the sovereign’s chambers. She was relieved to see Koryn open it. He was so old, wizened by Gyl’s standards, but Alyssa loved the great wisdom in his rheumy eyes. With Merkhud dead, Koryn was the last of the palace staff who had served under old King Mort and who had known Lorys as a child.
He welcomed her kindly and pointed towards the salon. ‘I am sure the King thanks you for coming at this late hour, Miss Alyssa,’ he said graciously and offered to pour her a glass of wine.
Alyssa did not really want wine. Her stomach was churning at this unexpected invitation.
‘Here you are, Miss.’ He passed her the goblet anyway.
‘Oh, Koryn, I’m just trying to come to terms with today.’ She mustered a smile for the gentle man who stood in front of her. ‘How is the King?’
He sighed gently. ‘It will take time but you know him: his mind never stops and now that the official pa
rt is over, he knows he must get on with running his Kingdom. With him being away on the tour and then this…well.’ He shrugged.
‘I understand,’ Alyssa said. She sipped her wine politely. ‘Are we to work?’
‘I don’t believe so. I think he might just appreciate some company, Miss Alyssa.’ His last few words were whispered for Lorys strode into the room.
Alyssa stood, feeling nervous. Lorys was freshly bathed and droplets of water still clung to his beard and hair. His dark violet shirt was carelessly open and she could see his broad muscled chest beneath. She put down the beautiful glass goblet quickly. It was either that or break it with her grip.
All the feelings she thought she had put aside came flooding back. He was beautiful. So much older than her and yet he was truly irresistible. His grief just made him more vulnerable, more desirable. She wanted to run but found a shaky smile as he looked at her briefly before addressing his valet.
‘Thank you, Koryn, for your help today. Please, have an early night. I will not be requiring anything more this evening.’
Koryn bowed to his sovereign and departed. Drake, the King’s huge hound, escorted him to the door. The old man was quite used to this ritual and even wished the dog a very good night.
Alyssa’s mind was racing. What should she say? How should she act?
‘Thank you for coming, Alyssa,’ the King said suddenly.
She jumped.
‘Are you well?’ he asked, noticing how startled she seemed.
‘I…I…it’s been a very long day, your majesty. My apologies. I imagine you must be feeling it more than any of us.’
She wished she could bite her own tongue out. What a stupid thing to say. He had not seemed to notice, though, and was pouring himself a goblet of wine. He asked her to sit. A small fire had been lit in the room, making it cosy. The nights were certainly cooler now and Alyssa’s mind shifted briefly to Saxon, wondering how he might be faring in the north as winter closed in.
Revenge Page 8
