Most of the room snorts, laughing at my words and the sight of a ‘child’ standing up to a big guard. The guard himself laughs until Malir barks an order at him. He falls back, his laughter dying, leaving me to stroll to the judgement chair unmolested.
I ignore the still laughing men around the room. My gaze lifts to meet the King’s. My temper had just gotten the better of me. I hope its loss was seen as strength, not an angry disposition. His gaze is furious, though surprisingly, it’s not directed at me and instead is on the guard behind me. I hear the guard fidgeting under his attention. The King shifts his gaze to me and the guard lets out a small squeaking sound.
“This meeting has been called to collect the Tatuma’s account of what befell Prince Kedrick and then to decide her fate accordingly,” the King states, not raising his voice at all, though the room is large.
“I have spoken in length to all of the delegates and their accounts have been...interesting.”
I realise then the King Jovan I saw last night was uncontrolled. The distant interest he gives off now is terrifying and I have not missed the thinly veiled threat in his words just now. He would not hesitate to kill me if I am uncooperative.
“Why was my brother with you that night?” he starts, his eyes on my hands in my lap. He cannot see my face so he is watching for other signs.
I swallow and shift my eyes to look behind him, his eyes are too intense.
Should I tell the truth? I have a feeling lies are going to end with more of my bones broken. Kedrick had always spoken highly of his brother. I think he would want me to tell him, to reassure him in his grief. I could see this now, though I could not have a week prior. And who knew what information I could glean from this meeting by giving up some of my own.
A few people shift as I take my time answering.
I decide on the truth. “Kedrick and I met several times at night during his time on Osolis. This particular time was because he was due to leave the day after. We wished to be alone together,” I say.
Many of the gathered Bruma mutter, some shy back in disgust.
There is a moment where I wonder what was wrong with what I said, my brow clears as I remember. I keep forgetting how relationships between our races are viewed. Any qualms I had initially had about this myself, had disappeared almost a year ago.
The King looks a little amazed by my answer, though he was informed of our relationship last night. “There was nothing different about this night from the others?” he asks, leaning slightly forward for my answer, one large finger across his lips.
There is no way I’m going to tell him we had planned to remove my veil.
“We met in the forest instead of the meadow.”
“Why?” a blonde-haired man asks from my left. I do not like his watery blue eyes.
“We did not want to be caught. The forest is more private than the meadow.” A few men snort at this. I look down, realising what they thought Kedrick and I had been doing. One of my hand fists. There is a growling behind me from the delegates and the others shut up.
“What next?” the King asks, his hand moves in a jerky gesture. Kedrick used to do the same thing.
I have replayed what happened next over in my mind so many hundreds of times I do not need to think before I answer. “I was facing Kedrick.” I swallow as everyone leans closer. “He was looking at me, but must have seen or heard something in the forest behind me because he peered over my head. I saw his face change at the moment he must have realised there was an archer there.”
I swallow hard, taking a few moments to collect myself. I focus on the pain in my wrist. On the arrow in my boot. I had debated, while locked in in my room, over whether I should share the next information with the King. But not acknowledging Kedrick’s selfless action is too cowardly. I take a deep breath.
“The archer was behind me. Kedrick threw me aside. When I looked up the arrow had struck him here.” I bring a trembling hand to the area where he had been hit. “It is where my head had been. If he had not thrown me aside, the arrow would have gone through my head,” I say in a wooden tone.
The King makes as though he is going to stand, but stops himself.
A couple of the others in the room gasp at my words. The rest do not understand the implication of what I have just said.
“I believe I was the intended target,” I say, guilt drips off every word. Now everyone in the room knows it was my fault. Not for the first time, I wish the arrow had reached its intended destination.
My words leave the room empty. No one speaks, no one moves. Everyone takes a moment to digest what I have said. My chest starts to feel tight at being surrounded in the ring. I take rapid breaths.
“After he got hit?” the King asks, his voice angry.
This is the part I have dreaded retelling. I squeeze my eyes shut and talk quickly. “I helped him to the ground. I could hear footsteps crashing away. It must have been the assassin, but I did not think to give chase. And I don’t know why they ran. I was so focused on Kedrick, not thinking clearly. I only remembered the footsteps afterwards.”
I take a shuddering breath which catches on the rising lump on my throat. When my voice sounds, it is hoarse. “I did not know what to do to help him, we were so far from the palace. I don’t think he could have been-” my voice catches on the word ‘saved’.
I clear my throat and try again.
“I held his hand as-” I can’t bear it. I stand up and pace in jerky patterns, focusing on the feel of my boot striking the stone, the throbbing in my wrist. I grasp at the fury I know lies in wait. It rises up at my call and burns back the tears threatening to fall. I resume my seat, reverting back to my wooden voice. “It was many hours later before Malir and Rhone found us.”
There is silence again. For a long time. The King finally breaks it.
“Did he say anything? Before he died?” His voice is rough.
A single tear escapes my fury and trails down the side of my nose. I nod, but cannot talk.
“What?” he says, leaning forward once again.
“He said,” I try, but the words do not sound. I try once more. “He said, don’t cry.”
Tears pour down my face, I turn my face to the side, unable to respect Kedrick’s last wish. They drip underneath my veil into the front of my tunic. The King waves to the person next to him, an older, intelligent looking man.
“Had there been any prior indication you were in danger?” the man asks in a deep voice I instantly like.
I start to say no, but stop as a hidden memory surfaces. Frowning through my tears, I answer, “There had been a crack in the woods behind us in the days earlier. I had dismissed this as a fallen branch.”
I try to remember the positions we had been in that day. The memory has faded too much for me to be sure. I shake my head. “I do not know if this was the archer or not.”
The grey haired man nods. “Are there any on Osolis whom, you believe, may have been behind the attempt to kill you?” I do not answer, the time for the truth is over. Now I have to save my own skin.
I’m saved from lying and damned at the same time by Blaine.
“Her mother. You know I’m particularly good at perceiving relationships, King Jovan. The Tatum hates her,” he says in his nasal voice.
My teeth and fists clench at Blaine’s words. There goes my shot at convincing them to let me live so they can eventually ransom me back to Osolis.
All eyes are on me, waiting for a denial.
“Amongst others, yes,” I say in an even tone.
“You believe your mother would kill you?” the King finally speaks. He looks at me like a tree has sprouted from my face. Probably wondering what is so wrong with me my own mother would hate me.
“The Tatum’s a fucking bitch,” Sanjay says. I gasp at his language.
“Sanjay,” I admonish, twisting around to look at him.
“You know it is true,” he defends.
“Well...” I bite back a sudden bubble of laughter.
“You still should not say so.” He just raises an eyebrow in response.
“How old are you child?” the older man speaks again. I turn back around to the front.
“I’m not a child. I am five revolutions and five rotations old. No, make that six revolutions now.” My birthday had occurred somewhere on the Oscala.
“Eighteen,” Malir translates.
“Yes,” I say. My shoulders hunch forward. It feels like we have been in here for hours. This talk of Kedrick is emotionally exhausting and I want it to be over. I don’t see what my age has to do with deciding if I should live or die.
The King is quiet, surveying the room, uninterested with our current topic. I wonder what he is thinking.
“I would like an explanation from the delegates as to why the Tatuma was taken hostage,” he says. I see Blaine stiffen to my left and I smile an evil smile, knowing better than to feel sorry for him by now.
“I thought the Prince had been t-targeted, my King,” Blaine stutters. I roll my eyes. “I thought it best for Glacium to have some leverage against Osolis in the case of war.”
I could not fault his reasoning. I may have done the same if in the same position.
“Did you not think by taking her, you would assure a reaction from Osolis? Considering you were sent on a peace mission, I would hope this thought had crossed your mind,” the King says in the dangerous soft voice I had heard him use last night. Hope flares within me.
“Yes, my King, it had. But because her mother hates her, I thought it unlikely to eventuate into anything more,” Blaine answers. Ouch.
“Even if the Tatum hates her, I’m sure there are others who would push for her return. Other family perhaps.”
Malir interjects. “Her brother Olandon will. And she is much loved by the people of Osolis.” I twirl to look at him. I am?
“To anger the people is worse than to anger the ruler,” the King says. Again, I hear the threat masked in his musing tone. I can tell Blaine does, too, by how he pales and begins to babble.
“I thought she could be used as ransom.”
The King stands, fists on the table. “Would a mother that hates her be likely to pay for her return?”
“We could torture her for information on their armies and supplies,” Blaine blurts.
There is a roar of outrage from my companions and some of the King’s party also. The King holds up a hand. Everyone quiets as he speaks.
“The purpose of the treaty delegation is to maintain a peace with Osolis and to forge a stronger relationship between our worlds. It is something my brother strongly believed in.” He stands. “During your training for Osolis you were all present and would often hear his passion on this subject, would you not?”
I applaud Blaine’s survival instincts when he does not answer. The King starts a slow stroll around the outside of the table towards him.
“It is why I’m amazed you happened to forget this in the wake of his death,” he says casually as he strolls. “Not only have you jeopardised the tenuous peace between our worlds, you have disrespected my brother’s memories with your rash decision.”
The King has almost completed the circle. He stops behind Blaine who is visibly shaking.
“On top of that, you further appear to have disrespected him by convincing the others to capture someone, who, by all accounts, he seemed to be…fond of. With your gift for noting relationships, as you mentioned earlier, I would think it an unlikely oversight to have missed his growing relationship with the Tatuma.” The King stands directly behind Blaine now. Blaine’s quivering has turned to full shaking.
“You are suddenly quiet,” the King says. Blaine squeaks in reply.
“I didn’t think so.” He picks Blaine up by the neck and throws him towards the closed door. Blaine crashes into the wood, bouncing off onto the ground. I gasp at the King’s strength. He had thrown him as I would throw an apple.
“You will spend a year in the sixth sector. I do not want to hear of you, or see you until the assembly is in the second. Your family will remain here.” The King walks back around the circle and settles into his seat. Blaine scrambles up to his feet and wrenches the door open. His last look is for me and I quake a little at the hatred I see there. Another enemy. The door slams shut.
“As for the rest of the delegates, I’m disgusted you were so easily persuaded. It seems most of you realised your error on the journey, however, and for that I will be merciful. Leave us now,” the King says.
I half rise with them, uncertain if his order included me.
“Sit down,” he says. I narrow my eyes at the order, but do so. Slowly.
He does not speak again until the shame-faced delegates have left.
I fix on the King’s face. His lips are pursed in some small amusement. “You have commandeered most of those men.” The amusement is gone the next moment. He sits forward.
“I don’t want you to think I want you here, when your world was the death of my brother. If I could swap your life for his, I would do it tenfold.”
I nod. I would do the same.
“I also don’t think you have told us the whole truth.” I keep still, thinking about the shaft in my boot.
“As I have just demonstrated with Blaine, I will not disrespect the honour and bravery of my brother’s sacrifice by killing you. If it as you and the others say, Kedrick was fond of you. You can be assured I will not torture or kill you unless it is necessary.” He sits back, sprawling out his left leg. “If I find you have been dishonest in any way or are here for reasons other than what they appear to be, I will kill you myself.” I crack my eyes open in disbelief. He is going to let me go?
He surveys me with his hand splayed over his bottom lip.
“That blasted veil is a pain in the arse,” he says. My heartbeat picks up, but my panic is quenched as he continues talking. “You will stay here as a guest, until I decide what I will do with you. Do you understand?” he asks.
I narrow my eyes at him, he is talking to me as though I’m stupid.
His lips purse in amusement again, as if he knows what I am thinking.
The meeting has worked perfectly. I will stay, giving me time to find Kedrick’s killer. And I will live. I give a short nod.
The same guard escorts me out, minus the poking in the shoulder. The door is nearly closed, but I hear the King’s words clearly.
“Send two messengers to Osolis to convey news of the Tatuma’s safety. Tell the messengers to set the hawks up at the midway cave.”
The hawks! They were only brought out during war negotiations.
I struggle to recall my lessons on them, but can remember nothing except they save time by taking messages to the edge of the smoky barrier on Oscala. Instead of waiting two months to receive a reply to your message, you would get a reply in a month.
Was King Jovan trying to maintain peace? Or declaring war?
Chapter Eighteen
Over the next month I learn the term ‘guest’ differs in meaning on Glacium. The Bruma do not spit on me anymore, but I feel their hostility constantly. After an attack from a Bruma man as I walked to my room one evening, I was given a second guard. Life here is a far cry from my life before, where I never had any guards at all. Only people spying on me.
One of my delegates would always collect me for meals. The members of court were less likely to try and trip and push me when they were by me. I try to remind myself of the attitudes of Solati towards Bruma when my patience levels are low, and I want to punch the Bruma right between their eyes.
My arm is now yellow and much less swollen and it is confined by a new splint Adnan fashioned for me. I had been happy to get rid of the sling a week ago.
The Bruma were not all this way. I had met the wives of some of the delegates now. Fiona, Sanjay’s wife, was kind. She had been the one to leave fresh clothes in my room and Sadra, Malir’s wife, reminded me of the matron from the orphanage.
The food hall was also the perfect place to spy on the King. So fa
r he had received one message by hawk, though I had no idea of the contents. The hawk had been beautiful; snow white with the biggest wings I had ever seen. When it had taken off, I had felt the power of them from my seat. I suppose it would need powerful wings to fly through all this snow and rain. Adnan explains they have some extra eyelid which protects their eyes, but still allows them to see. The hawk had risen to the ceiling and disappeared through some exit not visible from our table.
The King’s posture had become rigid as he read the message, which I didn’t take as a good sign. I was relieved, though, when I did not receive word I was to return home. So far I had not had any luck with finding the assassin. I needed more time.
I open the heavy door at the front of the castle. I had pretty much been allowed free reign of the castle, though I was told I was not allowed out of the gates.
I make my way down the massive steps into the courtyard, huddling to keep warm, but making sure to keep one hand on the wall as Malir told me to do so I don’t get lost in the blizzard. The white powder of the disturbed snow flies around us, penetrating even the thick fur of my coat. I will never get used to the cold here. Most of the time I feel like my bones themselves are frozen. I only come outside for one thing. To see Rhone’s dogs.
When Rhone is not away doing business for the King on the sleds, the dogs are kept here or in the kennels. There is a whining noise as I approach. I bend down to Leo, giggling as he raises one ear and tilts his head to the side. I reach out my good hand towards him. He sniffs at my hand and then licks it. I scratch him behind the ears where Rhone has taught me to, laughing as he moves his head side to side when he gets enough in the first spot.
I start as Rhone crouches down beside me, I had not heard his approach over the howling wind. He scratches Leo’s chest, not speaking.
Fantasy of Frost Page 12
