Assassin's Price

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  A quick expression of surprise flitted across Aloryana’s face. “I don’t see how you had time to notice anything else.”

  “Did you find Ferron interesting?”

  “He was nice enough, but he was really interested in Malyna.”

  Charyn looked to Malyna.

  “He was charming and very polite,” she replied.

  “Does Ferron dance well?”

  “Passably well,” replied Aloryana when Malyna just smiled. “You dance better. So does Ferrand, and so does Maitre Alastar, except he’s old enough to be a grandfather. He said he has a daughter not much older than I am. That’s hard to believe.”

  “Why? Maitre Alyna is much younger than he is,” replied Charyn.

  “Why would she marry someone that much older?” interjected Bhayrn. “She’s still good-looking, and there are always more men imagers than women.”

  A faintly amused smile crossed Malyna’s face, but vanished almost instantly as Chelia and Lorien entered the chamber.

  Charyn would have liked to have asked his father whether he had spoken to Ryel about staying on the High Council, but he knew inquiring about that would have to wait.

  Aloryana turned a withering glance on Bhayrn. “Maitre Alyna obviously didn’t want to marry a weakling. The only imager stronger than she is happened to be Maitre Alastar.”

  “That attitude will limit your choices,” said Bhayrn snidely.

  “I think that is quite enough,” declared Chelia firmly. “Once the High Holders leave, there will be refreshments for us in the family parlor. There will be no unpleasant comments.”

  That meant another glass of largely insignificant conversation, Charyn knew. He smiled politely. “I could use a glass of wine.”

  “So could we all,” replied Chelia, “except Aloryana. A half glass will suffice for you, dear, but we will wait to leave here until most have left.”

  “Did the ball meet your expectations?” asked Charyn, turning to Malyna.

  “It did, but it was different. Not that many people seemed to be enjoying themselves.”

  “You danced with Maitre Alastar,” said Bhayrn bluntly.

  “He asked me. I wasn’t about to turn him down. He was very nice. It’s some—… I mean, it’s hard to believe that he’s killed so many men and turned rivers to ice.”

  “I met a subcommander when I got a tour of army headquarters,” said Charyn. “He said he was there when the Maitre and the other imagers destroyed most of the High Holders’ army. He said the ice stretched half a mille in every direction.” Even as he spoke, Charyn wondered what Malyna had almost said.

  “The Maitre did something like that all by himself,” said Chelia, “when he saved your father and me in the first uprising.”

  “I didn’t know that,” said Malyna.

  “It wasn’t our greatest moment,” declared Lorien dryly. “I’d prefer not to discuss it.” He turned to Aloryana. “Did you enjoy the ball?”

  “I did, Father. Thank you so much for letting me be here.”

  Charyn was surprised at the clear appreciation and the hint of emotion in his sister’s voice.

  “Thank you, dear.” Lorien looked directly at Bhayrn. “What about the rest of you? Or was it just a trial to be endured?” His eyes focused on Bhayrn.

  “No, sir. There were some nice girls—”

  “Young women,” corrected Chelia.

  “… and I did have a chance to talk to Pietyr, since I haven’t been able to go anywhere lately.”

  “And you, Charyn?”

  “Very pleasing, very rewarding, and enjoyable.”

  “Rewarding? An interesting choice of words.” Lorien looked to Malyna. “And you … how did you find it?”

  “It will be an experience I’ll never forget,” replied Malyna. “I appreciate your allowing me to be here.”

  “We’re all very glad you’re here.” Chelia looked to Lorien.

  “I think we can go down to the family parlor now,” said Lorien.

  Bhayrn immediately headed for the door to the side corridor, without so much as a glance back at the others.

  “Don’t be in such a hurry,” cautioned Chelia.

  Bhayrn slowed down, although he reached the top of the grand staircase just before everyone else. Aloryana, Charyn, and Malyna were next, with Charyn in the middle on the wide steps, followed by Chelia and Lorien. At the base of the staircase, Bhayrn paused, then turned left toward the family parlor. When he reached the main level, Charyn gestured for Aloryana to go ahead, then Malyna.

  At that instant, abruptly, one of the chateau guards at the foot of the grand staircase turned, pulled out a pistol, and fired almost point-blank at Lorien. Even before the rex started to topple, the other guard had out a pistol, and both guards began to fire at the rest of the family—except the bullets sprayed away from Charyn, Aloryana, and Malyna.

  Then one of the guards looked startled, dropped his pistol, and clutched at his chest, as his legs crumpled under him.

  The other one froze.

  “Tie him up!” commanded Malyna. “Quickly! Now!”

  No one moved for a moment.

  “Charyn!” snapped Malyna. “Tie him up. I can’t hold him much longer and protect the rest of you.”

  Protect the rest of you? Because he didn’t have anything to tie the guard with, Charyn went for the pistol. He had to struggle to wrest the pistol from the guard, not because the man was struggling, but because the pistol felt as though it was fastened firmly to him. For a moment the guard tried to move, and the pistol came free, and the man stiffened again. Charyn thrust the pistol at Aloryana, then unbuckled his belt, pulled it free and wrapped it around the stiff guard, fastening it behind him.

  “Drop him to the floor!” snapped Malyna.

  “I can’t. He’s frozen in place.”

  “Oh! Now.”

  The immobile guard started to go sideways, and Charyn pushed him facedown. The man hit the stone floor with a dull sound, but did not move.

  “Hold him down,” said Malyna. “I have to let go of that shield.”

  Charyn scrambled into position, then glanced back at his father, who lay at the base of the grand staircase, with Chelia cradling his head in her lap. Only the slightest trace of blood had oozed from the wound in Lorien’s forehead.

  He’s dead … he’s dead. How could that have happened … so quick …

  The guard beneath Charyn was no longer stiff, and shuddered. Charyn thought he was breathing.

  Three other guards, rather Guard Captain Churwyl and two guards, arrived as Charyn knelt on the no longer stiff, but somehow still breathing chateau guard. Behind them, Charyn saw two other guards shielding Bharyn.

  Charyn looked up. “He shot Father.” He still wasn’t certain he believed it had happened, but then his eyes flicked toward where his mother cradled his father.

  “He shot at everyone,” said Malyna. “Both guards were traitors.”

  Churwyl looked from the motionless guard that Malyna had apparently killed, somehow, and then bent to look at the one Charyn had restrained. “These aren’t the men I assigned.”

  “We’ll need to talk to the one Charyn’s kneeling on,” said Malyna, her voice a commanding tone Charyn had not heard before. “Can your men keep him safe and alive?”

  Churwyl looked bewildered.

  “Do as she says,” declared Chelia.

  “Now!” snapped Charyn.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Blood covered the face of the surviving traitor guard as the two guards with Churwyl lifted him to his feet. He moaned slightly.

  “We’ll need to find out who hired or bribed him,” Charyn said, after standing and stepping back, knowing he was repeating what Malyna said.

  “Yes, sir.”

  When Charyn glanced back toward his parents, he saw that his mother had eased herself back slightly and positioned his father so that Lorien lay straight on his back, his sightless eyes looking upward. She slowly rose to her feet, then put her arms
around Aloryana, who was sobbing silently.

  Churwyl looked to Charyn, as if awaiting orders.

  Abruptly, Charyn realized that he had to give those orders. What orders? It seemed like forever before he could finally speak. “Make certain that none of the more recently hired guards are anywhere inside the chateau. Anywhere. Do that immediately. Move my father”—he found himself pausing—“to the stately guest chamber at the top of the grand staircase and post a guard there immediately. We need to move to the family parlor.” He tried to think of what else needed to be done. “Also … send a messenger to inform Maitre Alastar immediately of what has happened.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Once all that is taken care of, and you are confident that the Chateau is actually secure, report back.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’ll go with him,” Chelia said.

  Charyn knew exactly what she meant. “Do you—”

  “No. I’d like to do that alone. You need to take care of the others.”

  “Are you—”

  “Yes. I am.”

  Charyn nodded, although his eyes flicked to his father’s countenance, a frozen expression there not even showing surprise.

  How … How did it happen so quickly …

  Charyn waited until more guards appeared and his mother followed his father back up the grand staircase before motioning Malyna and Aloryana toward the family parlor. Aloryana clutched Malyna’s hand.

  His thoughts continued to race as he walked behind them, but those thoughts were fragments tumbling over fragments.… had to be planned … months in advance … Malyna … she was ready … yet caught off guard for a moment … her guards … no … couldn’t be them … Father … Mother … had to know about Malyna … Churwyl … he involved?… unlikely, but … message to the High Council … not yet … Mother … so terrible for her … Ryel … could he be the one … or factors …

  Once the four of them were in the family parlor, with two chateau guards posted outside, and Malyna, Bhayrn, and Aloryana were seated, Charyn looked at Malyna. “Who are you, really? Besides an imager.”

  “I am Malyna D’Zaerlyn. My aunt is Maitre Alyna. She’s my father’s sister.”

  “But … but…” Bhayrn stuttered

  “You were here to protect Aloryana, weren’t you?” interjected Charyn. “And the two personal guards who accompanied you weren’t from Rivages at all. They’re imagers as well, aren’t they?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why couldn’t you stop them from killing Father?” demanded Aloryana.

  “I’m sorry, Aloryana. I couldn’t act fast enough. Your Father made it clear I was to protect you, first, then Charyn and Bhayrn. He said that whoever had attacked wanted to use all of you to pressure him. He wouldn’t allow any imager in the chateau except me. I’m not the best. I’m only a junior Maitre D’Aspect, but I’m the only one who could fit in here in the chateau close to you without being suspected in moments. Maitre Alastar had to argue to get your father to allow Kaylet and Dylert to pose as my guards, and he’d only allow them to serve as outside guards.”

  Charyn stood stock-still for a moment, realizing just how clever Malyna had been. She had never once lied … about anything. “Your uncle … you were talking about Maitre Alastar, weren’t you?”

  “He is my uncle, you know, since Alyna is my aunt.”

  Charyn could also see the brightness in Malyna’s eyes, and realized that she was upset as well. Again … he had to think before he spoke. “You were in a difficult position. Mother knew, didn’t she?”

  Malyna nodded.

  “You’ll have to stay for a while, you know,” Charyn said.

  “I know.”

  Charyn hoped he didn’t have to spell out why. The two false guards had been ordered to kill all of them.

  “Anyone who wants a goblet of wine can have one. I certainly intend to have one. Just one, though.”

  Sipping it might give him a few moments to think through what he should have done and had not … and what else he needed to do, even as his thoughts went back to what had just happened …

  23

  After dealing with everything he could, Charyn went to bed alone. He did not sleep well. His dreams were troubled, although he could not remember the details when he woke to the moaning of the wind in the grayness before dawn on Solayi. He did remember the feelings that those dreams had created well enough that he had no desire to attempt to sleep longer. Just a wonderful start to the first day of the year. He pushed away the thought that matters couldn’t get worse. Even he knew they could.

  He was still struck by how quickly—and effectively—Malyna had reacted to the assassins the night before. She was three years younger than he was, and he doubted that he could have moved as quickly as she had, even if he’d had a pistol in hand.

  But she’s a trained imager maitre. That thought was sobering … and a reminder of why his mother had kept dropping hints that Malyna was not for him.

  He washed and dressed quickly, then used the more private circular staircase to descend to the main level. He didn’t reach the family breakfast room before Churwyl found him.

  “Sir?” offered the guard captain, almost tentatively.

  “What is it?” Charyn kept his voice level, although he had the feeling he had missed something … or that the guard captain had more bad news.

  “The man you captured…”

  “Did he say anything?”

  “He’s dead.”

  “How did that happen?” Charyn had to force himself not to snap.

  “He wouldn’t say anything. I was trying to get him to talk, and he just … went into convulsions and died. Even though his hands were bound. He kept chewing on the lapel of his jacket.”

  “The uniform jacket was poisoned?”

  “It would seem so. He also had a blade in his collar and some powder in his wallet. The powder killed a rat.”

  “He said nothing?”

  “He just kept repeating that he didn’t know anything, and he’d done what he had to do.”

  “What about the other guard?”

  “He was provisioned the same way.”

  “Who makes the guard uniforms?”

  “I’ve already sent someone. I’ll let you know what I find out.”

  “Did the message to Maitre Alastar get delivered?”

  “Yes, sir … well, to the duty maitre at the Collegium.”

  “Then I’m sure he’ll get it. Is there anything else? Oh … what about Maitre Malyna’s ‘guards’?”

  “She’s a maitre, an imager maitre?”

  “She is, young as she is, and she’s the reason the rest of us are alive. She immobilized the one guard and killed the other before I could even take a single step.” For some reason, Charyn decided not to mention the shields. “Father worked out something with Maitre Alastar. I think it was so that Maitre Malyna could protect Aloryana.” Why else was Malyna always so close to her? “He never said anything about it to any of us.” Except possibly Mother.

  “But … the rex … I mean your father … he said she was a High Holder’s daughter.”

  “She is. She’s also an imager. Now … about her ‘guards.’ They’re also both imagers. I’d like them moved to watch the doors, especially the rear courtyard door.”

  “They’re … staying?”

  “For now. We’ll see about later.” Charyn paused. There was something else … something about the chateau guards. “Oh … were the two traitors among the more recently hired guards?”

  “Ah … not among the latest hired, but they were hired in Erntyn when Zakart and Blevyn took their stipends. They came highly recommended.”

  “By whom?”

  “The former head of the Civic Patrol, Commander Murranyt. I talked to him myself.”

  Murranyt? What was there about Murranyt? There was something, but Charyn couldn’t remember what it had been. It might have been something his father had said. He wished he’d started paying mor
e attention earlier. “That doesn’t say much about him. Can you find out where the commander might be? And why he might have had a reason to want us all dead?”

  “I can see.”

  “Were there any other guards hired in the last few months, that is, until you were allowed to find more guards several weeks ago?”

  “No, sir.”

  “For now, keep the newer guards out of the chateau proper.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Is there anything else I should know?”

  “Right now, I can’t think of anything, sir.”

  As Churwyl hurried off, Charyn realized that he should have sought out the guard captain immediately on waking and that he should have thanked Churwyl for seeking him out.

  When he finally reached the breakfast room, he was the only family member there. Especially after talking with Churwyl, he didn’t feel all that hungry. In the end, he managed to eat most of the cheesed eggs and a chunk of warm bread, and finish a mug of tea.

  As he was leaving, he asked, “Has my mother been down?”

  “No, sir. Her maid requested a tray for her. Werlya took it up to her a quint or so ago.”

  “Thank you.”

  Again using the private staircase, Charyn climbed up to the upper level and walked to the door to his mother’s sitting room, where he rapped gently on the door. “It’s Charyn. Might I come in?”

  “If you’re alone.”

  “I’m alone.”

  Charyn waited. After several moments, he could hear the lock bolt sliding back, and then his mother opened the door. Her eyes were bloodshot, but her cheeks were dry. She stepped back, and he entered the sitting room, and relocked the door. By then she had retreated to her armchair.

  He took the chair facing her. “I heard you ordered a tray.”

  “Werlya insisted. I ate a little. The tea helped.”

  “I ate a little more than that. The tea helped me, too.”

  There was a silence.

  “I’m sorry,” Charyn said. “I had no idea…”