Gasps of despair again rang through the hall. Jovan silenced them with a look.
Jubal continued, “The White Prince claimed that Sør Sevier warships are returning to Wyn Darrè now. They will continue to sail back and forth until all of Sør Sevier’s finest warriors are on Gul Kana soil. And then, from the south, the armies of Aeros Raijael will march on Lord’s Point.” Jubal Bruk’s eyes traveled up to Jovan, who now swayed more drunkenly on his feet above him. He continued, “The White Prince said you can meet him there to offer up your surrender. He said that as the prophecies in The Chivalric Illuminations have foretold, Aeros Raijael, the heir of Laijon, Mia, and their one and only son, Raijael, has returned to reclaim what is rightfully his. He said to tell you that if you refuse to surrender at the appointed place, with a certainty, his war to reclaim Gul Kana will be fought with extreme savagery—”
“Enough.” Jovan waved the man to silence with a brisk motion of his arm, nearly toppling over drunk as he did so. “I have heard quite enough.” His hazed-over eyes now roamed Sunbird Hall, looking for what, Tala could not tell.
“Where is Squireck Van Hester?” Jovan asked. “Where is that traitor?” His eyes traveled the breadth of the room. But as Tala knew, in the commotion of Leif and the box, the Prince of Saint Only and Jondralyn had slipped silently and unseen through the doors and down the corridor. “And where is my sister, Jondralyn?” Jovan weaved forward, half squatting and then half falling to his knees.
Tala rushed to his aid first. She took him in her arms as he collapsed to the floor. His body was heavy and she fell under him, her forearms wrapped around his head so it would not crack against the stone floor.
Then her brother’s eyes rolled up and he lost consciousness.
“That I fainted bothers me,” Jovan said. He was lying in his bed again, Tala on the bed at his side. Leif Chaparral had stepped out of Jovan’s bedchamber for a moment, leaving them alone. Tala and Leif together had helped the king back to his room along with a few of the Silver Guard. A contingent of Dayknights stood guard outside Jovan’s bedchamber. The room itself was rich with the mossy scent of pine incense and witch hazel, the aromatic combination well known to relieve nausea. “It will be looked upon as weakness,” Jovan continued. “Fainting is for maidens. It is not kingly. It disgraces the Silver Throne. Father would not have fainted.”
“Everyone knows what you have been through,” Tala reassured him. “They know of the assassination attempt. They know how sorely wounded you are. Instead they will look upon your attending Squireck’s pardoning as a great feat of strength.”
“Perhaps.” Jovan placed the palm of his hand atop her wrist. He looked contemplative. And for a moment Tala almost thought he was glad for her company until he said, “You must not think to act like your sister. You must not think to dress like her. I’ve seen war. I see what horrors happen to men in battle. Those horrors haunt my every waking moment. I must keep you safe. You are a lady. Not a man. I grow weary of the way you have been conducting yourself, Tala. So near to your Ember Gathering and you still behave so. Dame Mairgrid becomes lax in her duties. You dismiss her too easily. She must keep a short leash on you. I know you distrust Denarius. I know you think ill of him. But you are misled. What you and Glade and Lindholf have done is an affront to Laijon. You must return Lawri to her bedchamber. You must let Denarius continue his ministrations.”
“We have been through this already,” Tala blurted, more than a little angry that her brother could be so callous in his accusation, even after she had leaped to his side when he collapsed. Didn’t that earn her some measure of love and respect? Even in the face of a Sør Sevier invasion, his mind was still on placating the vicar. “I do not know where Sterling has hidden Lawri. It is he with whom you should be upset. I have done nothing.”
“I know not what to believe anymore,” Jovan said. “Sterling denies having the girl. And the holy vicar stands behind him. For my part, both your story and Sterling’s make little sense. Yet I must do something, and soon. I can ill afford any mistakes with the nobles now that war is upon us. Lord Lott Le Graven will demand Sterling’s head. Lott believes his son’s story. He insists I place guards around Lorhand and Lilith at all times. As if I didn’t have enough to deal with. Oh, Lindholf, that sod. It is he who is most convincing in his tall tale. By rights, I should send both Lindholf and Glade back to their homelands until this mess with Lawri is resolved. Seeing those two gone from your life would be like lancing two troublesome boils from the face of the castle. And to think I’ve paired you with Glade Chaparral. The two of you are naught but trouble together.”
Tala hated this surrounding feeling of helplessness. Her days and nights would be fraught with anxiety until she solved the Bloodwood’s puzzle. And the fact that her brother still considered her betrothal to Glade a viable proposition made her heart lurch.
After a few breaths, Jovan launched into his lecture anew. “I cannot banish Glade and Lindholf from Amadon without causing great insult to both Claybor Chaparral and Lott Le Graven. After the Ember Lighting Rites, they will want their sons to remain in Amadon to train as Silver Guards, as is customary. And heaven forbid we break custom. Do you not understand, Tala? Lott asked the grand vicar himself to watch over his sick daughter specifically. Now Lawri is vanished, if not dead. How do I even begin to explain this mess to Lord Lott?”
It seemed Jovan was talking to himself, for his eyes roamed the room, not once looking at Tala. “Squireck, vanished. Laijon knows what he’ll be plotting. Roguemoore gone. Sterling has been a disaster. Letting Hawkwood escape. Letting that wench who stabbed me escape. Should I feel bad for him? The poor sap slinking about the castle like a whipped cur, under a cloud of suspicion. I hear that his own men whisper behind his back. I should have him thrown into hard labor at the slave quarry at Riven Rock or, better yet, just have him killed. But I’ve Denarius to consider. He still speaks in Sterling’s defense. I need the counsel of the vicar and the quorum of five the most. We are on the brink of war, Tala, and not just with the White Prince, but now possibly with my own lords and liegemen. I will need Lord Lott’s and Lord Claybor’s armies the most.”
Jovan’s hand gripped her arm, and his eyes now bored into hers. “This situation with Lawri could be the unraveling of us all. To get the truth out, I should have you all tortured, you, Lindholf, Glade”—he paused—“Sterling, too.”
Tala didn’t think Jovan would actually send her to the torturer, but that he made mention of it was beyond worrisome.
She was relieved when Leif Chaparral entered the bedchamber. There was haste in his step as he limped toward Jovan’s bed. The scent of cloves followed him. His dark-rimmed eyes glanced at Tala dismissively. Leif’s voice was as smooth as his looks. “I’ve news, though I cannot prove it. Sterling Prentiss has been secretly garrisoning Lord’s Point with Dayknights from Amadon behind your back. Kelvin Kronnin and the Ocean Guard of Lord’s Point have been helping him. I’ve the gut feeling Sterling has been taking his orders from your dwarf ambassador, Roguemoore, or perhaps—forgive me for saying—your sister, Jondralyn.”
A pang of fear flamed up Tala’s spine.
“Denarius was right.” Jovan’s voice was full of grief. “They all work in concert against me. Of that, I am certain. It’s that damnable Brethren of Mia that’s at the root of everything. And Squireck Van Hester is in the thick of it. He’s made a mockery of the Silver Throne. Disgraced the traditions of the arena. Any word on his whereabouts? Or Jondralyn’s?”
“Neither has been seen since they made off from Sunbird Hall.”
“It seems both my sisters seek to thwart me.” Jovan threw a sharp look at Tala. She returned his gaze defiantly, awaiting an eruption of righteous anger. But there was no outburst. Instead he spoke in a more pleasant voice this time.
“Young Ansel is the only one left to mold in the fashion I wish. The rest are an uncontrollable lot.” As Jovan said those words, Tala could hear the warmth returning to his voice, and with it, s
he realized that her brother loved his family. At that moment, she felt great sorrow for Jovan, realizing that after their father’s death, her eldest brother had been thrust into his position on the Silver Throne and was merely trying to do the best he could. That Jondralyn, and now even she herself, had done so much damage to his reign and that he wasn’t the angrier for it was miraculous. The history of Gul Kana, and that of the Bronachell line, was rife with tales of kings and princes and princesses slaying their kin over the most inane of slights. The truth was, Jovan exhibited great patience with each of them. Tala felt herself on the verge of tears. Lawri was dying. And she still had zero idea what bonded her brother to Denarius. Her earlier guess had been wrong. Her disposition turned from sad to sour. It seemed any fleeting thought of Denarius did that to her.
“I must go,” she said. “That is, if it pleases my king?”
“Aye, you may go, Tala. And you needn’t be so formal with me. We are kin, not king and vassal. One day, I will show you, our family will join together again and all will be at peace. It will be as if Mother and Father were still alive. I promise, dear sister.”
Tala, now having come to a certain realization about her brother, found there was great strength in him. Tears were in her eyes, and she kissed him gently on the cheek.
“And I would do anything to help you achieve that,” she said, knowing how foolish and hollow her promise sounded in her own ears—she would do anything for her brother, anything but tell him the truth about Lawri.
Jovan narrowed his eyes at her. “All we do must glorify Laijon. As long as we keep our eyes focused on that, Tala, our family will not fail.”
Tala kissed him again and withdrew from his bedside, warmed by his parting words. The heels of her shoes clicked on the stone floor as she made her way through the partitions of his bedchamber, her mind on Lawri, nerves shredded. It just seemed there was nothing she could do anymore. Perhaps I should just tell Jovan everything and have done with it. Perhaps the secret ways could be searched by the Silver Guard and this assassin could be found and tortured.
With that thought, Tala made her way through foyer and hall, out of view of her brother’s bed. She reached for the chamber door and the large brass handle that ran the length of it. As she pulled the heavy door open, its hinges squealed faintly. The brass handle was polished and slick. Her hand slipped, sending the door slamming shut with a heavy clunk. Then she heard Leif’s voice from beyond the partitions. “The brat is gone now.”
It wasn’t what he said but how he said it that gave Tala pause, his already smooth voice now soft and conspiratorial in tone. Leif’s words angered her. I’m no brat.
“Glade, Sharla, and Jaclyn tax my sanity some days,” Leif continued. “As the firstborn, we can only suffer our younger siblings in patience. Do we not, my king?”
“Aye, truer words were never spoken, my friend. Lie with me awhile.”
Tala’s interest was further piqued. She remained rooted in place, anger at Leif’s insult simmering. She moved with care, drifting back through the foyer, peering around the partition. Leif was climbing into the bed with her brother. He lay on his side, elbow on the bed, head propped in his hand, his back to Tala. She watched as he stroked her brother’s hair with his free hand. Then Jovan reached up and ran his fingers through Leif’s straight, dark locks. Heart in her throat, Tala felt her anger at Leif’s insulting words fade as quickly as it had flared.
Jovan’s voice was barely above a whisper now. “Lest you get your hopes up, Leif, I tell you now that I will not accompany you on your return trip to Lord’s Point. I must stay here and tend to my wounds.”
“Has the assassin been rooted out yet?” Leif asked softly.
“As of yet, no, but the noose Jondralyn has put around her own neck continues to tighten. Did you hear that she washed the Prince of Saint Only’s feet?”
“I will go to the ends of the Five Isles to avenge you if I must, my dear king.”
“I know you would. Wyn Darrè is conquered as was prophesied. Now that the armies of Raijael have reached Gul Kana’s shores, we will soon bear witness to that great and glorious day of Absolution, when I will reign at Laijon’s side, you standing with me in glory. The vicar has foreseen it.”
“My anticipation knows no patience.”
Leif leaned in and shared a long kiss with Jovan. Tala’s heart began beating so fast she thought it might flop right out of her chest onto the rug-covered floor. Her body had become so tense she could scarcely move, not wanting to make a sound, at the same time not wanting to witness any more of the forbidden moment between her brother and Leif.
“I will send Jondralyn in my stead to go with you to Lord’s Point.” Jovan said as she placed her hand back upon the brass door handle and gently pulled.
“Jondralyn?” Leif sounded irritated.
“Yes, Jondralyn. Denarius thinks it wise we send her. You and my sister will hear the White Prince’s demands. Jondralyn will inform Aeros that Gul Kana intends to fight as Laijon would have us do. That Gul Kana intends to throw the Sør Sevier armies from our shores.”
“Less of an honor to accompany Jondralyn than you, but I will gladly do it.”
“As you must know, I bear my sister little, if any, love. Jondralyn, more even than the Brethren of Mia, is our greatest threat. If she were to somehow die in the hands of the enemy, I would be most pleased, and your reward and standing in the eyes of the quorum of five would be great. Now that the armies of Sør Sevier have reached our shores, the death of Princess Jondralyn Bronachell at the hands of Aeros Raijael would give me even more reason to rally our kingdom to war at the proper time to usher in Absolution. It has all been laid out in The Way and Truth of Laijon. Denarius read me a passage from the holy book, a prophecy. ‘The fall of Amadon will be as the death of one most beautiful.’ See? One most beautiful. It is her. My sister. She is one most beautiful. It is how the vicar has always spoken of her.”
He plans to kill Jondralyn! Tala’s heart thundered. Forcing herself to move, she took tentative steps through the foyer and entry hall toward the door again, grasping the brass handle. She opened the door at a snail’s pace to prevent any screech of the hinges. The last thing she wanted was for Jovan to know that she had heard his treachery against Jondralyn and seen his forbidden kiss with Leif. She could still hear her brother’s voice as she pushed her way through the door. “As much as it pains me to cut your visit short, Leif, you and Jondralyn will leave for Lord’s Point on the morrow. My final plans are in motion. You will soon be made captain of the Dayknights. The time of Laijon’s return draws near. And we together will hasten the Fiery Absolution and both reign together in glory. . . .”
In the lingering resonance of her brother’s words, Tala slipped the rest of the way from his chamber. As she eased the door shut behind her, she realized that this was the biggest secret she had ever stumbled upon, and she hadn’t even been sneaking about in the secret ways to discover it.
The answer to the puzzle came to her in a flash. She now knew what to put in her next note to the Bloodwood.
With her heart pounding, she headed straight back to Sunbird Hall.
This time her note read,
In secret, Jovan and Leif are lovers. The grand vicar knows of the relationship and holds it over them. If this information were to be made public, both Jovan and Leif would possibly be killed by the Dayknights. Some knights believe that it is forbidden for a man to lie with a man, that a king must wed and produce a male heir else he will grow ever more weak in their eyes. This is why the king is beholden to Denarius.
I have answered your question correctly. You must end this game now. I have done all that I was asked. Lawri is dying and I have told horrible and hurtful lies to keep her safe from those who wish her further pain. I beg of you, give me the poison’s cure.
Tala folded the note and slipped it under the vine atop the balcony’s railing and covered it with leaves. As she descended the stairs into Sunbird Hall, niggling doubts continued
to gnaw at her. The hall was still teeming with people left over from the victory ceremony and banquet for Squireck: nobles, Silver Guards, the king’s own steward, Ser Tomas Vorkink, barking orders at the servants who were cleaning the walls and scrubbing the floors. That she had just put such a damning note under a vine and leaves for anyone to stumble upon chilled her. The thought that she had just made a hideous error entered her mind and would not let go.
The realization of what she had seen between Jovan and Leif had stunned her at first, then grieved her. But her heart had immediately gone out to her brother. His relationship with Leif did not make her want to recoil from him in disgust, but rather made her want to comfort and protect him. Wishing to keep her brother’s secret, she very nearly bolted back up the stairs to destroy the note, but forced herself not to and continued her hesitant march down into Sunbird Hall. He plans on killing Jondralyn! She did not feel so sympathetic to her brother with that thought. I must find her and warn her!
Seita and Val-Draekin were at the bottom of the stairs. Val-Draekin had Glade’s ball-and-chain mace in hand and was teaching both Glade and Lindholf some new tricks with it. Glade Chaparral was becoming skilled with the toy, but the Vallè spun it about with both grace and deadly precision. As they whirled through the air, the twin balls sang a mournful melody. Seita was clad in black leather breeches and a slim white shirt, accentuating her lithe, athletic body. As Tala passed by, Seita offered pleasantries. But Tala ignored her, ignored the way the Vallè princess was dressed, passing no judgment, her mind spinning with confusion. She knew so many secrets and had told so many lies.
She spotted Jondralyn, slouched on a bench in the far corner of the room, talking quietly to Ansel. Squireck Van Hester was not with her. But the young Dayknight, Culpa Barra, was. Doesn’t she know Jovan is searching for her, for Squireck?
The Forgetting Moon Page 58
