by Guy Antibes
~
The coach fit all four of them inside. None of them brought much in the way of luggage, so that stayed inside with them. Lia changed her clothes under one of their thin blankets and fussed with her hair. When she emerged, Princess Pullia sat in Lia’s seat, still a little worse for wear.
“Better?” she said moving strands of hair from her face.
“Better.” Tembul said.
Trak wasn’t so sure. He liked the natural Lia better than the formal Princess Pullia, so he gave her a complimentary nod.
The coach stopped at the castle gate.
“Princess Pullia to see King Gastal,” Trak said to the guard.
The guard poked his head inside the carriage and his eyebrows rose on his face. “Your Highness, welcome back.”
Trak heard a number of voices talking all at once, and then the carriage shook as someone boarded the driver’s bench. The coach proceeded more slowly than Trak expected, but he guessed that guards ran ahead to warn others that Princess Pullia had returned.
Sirul looked nervous.
“You’ve had run-ins with both kings?”
Sirul nodded. “If he recognizes me, I won’t get a nice reception.”
Trak noticed Lia’s unfriendly face. “Perhaps he won’t recognize you. In any event, what will he do, just dismiss you from the castle?”
Sirul shrugged. “Probably.”
There wasn’t much more Trak could do in the coach. Sirul had relatives in Zamiel, so he’d be taken care of well enough. Trak was more concerned about Tembul’s condition. His friend looked haggard.
When the coach stopped, about twenty uniformed Toryans stood on either side of the steps leading up into the castle. Trak thought that the king’s home in Kizru was a poor imitation of the wild sculpturing of the Zamiel Castle. The melting sand style was even more extreme close up.
“He will need assistance,” Princess Pullia said. Her spine had stiffened and her chin was lifted in the air. She exuded diffidence. “Take him to a nice room and provide healers. He is in this condition for defending me from my enemies.”
Four of the escorts ran in unison. Sirul and Trak followed the princess up the steps leading into the castle itself.
They were led deeper into the castle. Lia walked briskly through the halls. Princess Pullia didn’t lack for confidence as she strutted through hall after hall, not needing directions. He walked with his hand on his sword, covered his magic, and set a shield around Sirul, Lia, and himself, as they hiked through the long corridors of Lia’s ancestral home.
She stopped in front of a handsome set of doors. The frame around them was a stunning example of the melted sand technique. “You may announce me,” she said to one of the guards.
Trak had now been announced to royalty or heads of state enough, but this was the first time he was totally ignored. The Throne Room buzzed with many conversations as the chamberlain announced Lia’s formal name, and they walked through them to the throne on the far end of the large room.
Two-thirds of the way to the throne, an arrow aimed at Trak bounced against the shield. Trak looked up and saw the perpetrator on the gallery that rimmed the room. Trak raised his finger, while walking, and shot a lightning bolt through his shield, stopping the assassin before he finished loading another bolt.
The buzzing stopped. The king stood up and looked at the man falling behind the railing above. He motioned to one of the guards to get to the gallery before he looked at Trak with amazement. “How did you do that?”
Trak merely bowed and looked forward at Lia, who had by now reached within conversational distance to the throne. The king sat back down, the shock plain on his face.
“Niece. I can’t believe it is you. I am sorry for the, uh,” the king looked up at the gallery, and then continued, “disruption, but these are trying times.”
Lia raised her chin even higher. “Uncle, someone needs to be punished for this inexcusable breach of your security. These are two of the men who rescued me in Beniko. Another suffered wounds protecting the location where I stayed upon entering the city. Take excellent care of him.”
The crowd murmured when Lia’s request sounded more like a command than a request.
“We are happy that you have returned. Perhaps we might be better served if we discuss your future privately,” King Gastal said.
“I am happy to do that as long as you understand that I intend on staying in Zamiel, Uncle. I don’t wish to return to Beniko or anywhere else.”
Gastal blinked for a bit until Lia’s words sunk in. She wouldn’t accept being pushed out of the picture a second time.
“Malkul? Show Princess Pullia to her old quarters and find some for her two escorts.”
“Trak Bluntwithe is my body guard and will stay close to me in my quarters. Sirul will return to the city to be among his relatives, since he is a citizen of Western Torya.”
“As you wish, my niece.” The king looked intently at Trak and flicked a finger at one of the courtiers, who assumed the pose that examined one’s magical flows. The courtier looked a little flustered and spoke in the king’s ear.
“Are you the Trak Bluntwithe that served with, uh, distinction in the Santasian civil war?” the king looked a little confused.
Trak bowed to King Gastal. “I am. Once the war ended, I ventured to Bennin and rescued Princess Pullia, Your Majesty.” He bowed again.
The king looked up at the gallery as the men carried the body of the archer out. “You have preserved the life of our Princess and deserve my gratitude.” The king nodded his head at Trak. “You may attend to Princess Pullia and leave us.” He sneered at Sirul. “I know you, Sirul, and you are dismissed from the castle grounds.”
He turned to Lia. “Please rest. You will attend a state dinner already planned for tonight, at which time I would be delighted to learn how you escaped.” He glanced quickly at Trak and back at Lia. “You may bring this man with you.”
“I look forward to our talk.” Lia turned quite regally and left the throne room, followed by Trak and Sirul.
Once outside the doors, Lia dismissed Sirul. “That you for coming with us. I had little idea my life might be at risk.”
Trak smiled despite the way he felt. “It wasn’t. The arrow was definitely meant for me.”
Other courtiers entered and exited the room. An older woman walked through the doors of the throne room and approached them. “May I escort you to your quarters?”
“I know the way,” Lia said, “but perhaps I might learn of what has changed in the castle since I left. It will be a useful discussion.”
The woman colored. “Certainly. I assume you recognize most of the courtiers?”
“I don’t,” Lia said. “You look vaguely familiar. As you must know, I avoided the throne room at all times. I can’t remember more than a handful of people.”
“You are Princess Pullia. There are those that don’t believe you are.”
Lia huffed. “Do you want to follow me to my rooms?”
The woman smiled, a little too craftily to Trak’s mind. “Lead the way, Your Highness.”
Trak followed behind the two women, keeping his shield intact as they walked. Lia took them on a long walk. She stepped into an alcove and twisted a section of molding, popping open the edge of a door.
“You may enter,” Lia said.
The woman looked flustered. “What is this? A closet?”
Lia looked back at Trak and pushed the lady inside. Lia grabbed Trak’s hand, followed the woman, and quickly closed the door.
“Spell a light,” Lia commanded.
“I don’t think there is enough room to pose,” the woman said.
“Are you questioning my command?”
The woman stuttered. “No, Your Highness.” A soft glow filled the passageway.
“That way,” Lia said, pointing to the left. She directed the woman past four or five branches. “Push on that bar.”
The woman hesitated, so Lia reached around her and pushed on i
t herself. Light invaded the space, while Lia pushed the woman into the room. Trak stepped forward with his sword drawn and the tip poking outside of a shield. Five men turned from the entrance, swords pointed at the woman.
“I believe you have the wrong person,” Lia said from behind Trak. “Put them to sleep.”
“Gladly,” Trak said.
~~~
Chapter Nineteen
~
Asem looked at the paper in his hand and then at Valanna. “You negotiated this? All by yourself?”
“No,” Valanna said. “I was with Danson Axlewood at the time.”
Kulara put her hand over her mouth to hide a giggle, while Asem glared at her. “What’s wrong with her agreement, my dearest friend?” she said.
“It’s just too rational.” He let a smile escape from his face. “I am impressed. I would have never thought—”
“But I did. You were correct. Saving Pestle from itself is too important to leave to chance or to undefined relationships,” Valanna said. “If I am to be Queen, I need to participate in freeing my country. I refuse to end up like Trak did after the Santasian civil war, being kicked out of the country he saved.”
“With this, I don’t think that will happen. Trak didn’t have the power that you have, right now,” Kulara said.
Valanna shook her head. “I’ll never have the power Trak has. He could walk into any capital and take the country over all by himself. Who would stop him?”
Asem grinned. “A lady’s love?”
Valanna barely returned the smile. “His nobility. Above all, Trak is a good young man becoming a great man.” She couldn’t withhold a sigh. And I am no longer his, she said to herself.
~~~
Chapter Twenty
~
Lia stood over six bodies slumbering on the ground. “The old Princess Pullia would have commanded you to kill them.”
Trak gave her a wry smile. “Then it’s a good thing that Lia came to their rescue. It would be awkward for a poor stableboy to reject the wishes of a Queen.”
Lia snorted. “I am no Queen.”
“You will be,” he said with total seriousness. He woke the guard wearing the fanciest uniform and put a truth spell on him.
“Who commanded you to kill the princess?” Trak said.
“Kill Princess Pullia? We would refuse to commit regicide,” the man said. “We came to kill you.”
“At whose command?” Trak repeated.
“King Gastal wanted it done, but his chamberlain gave me the direct order.”
“Why?”
“You stopped the arrow that was meant to end your life without a pose. All in the court saw it. Such a magician strikes fear into all around him, especially one that does not show his power flows.”
“You dare to make an attempt on my own bodyguard? Isn’t that treason enough?” Lia said. “I am glad that Trak Bluntwithe strikes fear in the hearts of those around me.” She lifted her chin.
The guard ignored her comment.
“The princess is nearly right. Such a magician strikes fear into those who have something to hide. Do all the courtiers have something to hide?”
“They survived the Kandannan purge didn’t they?” the man said. Trak took that for a ‘yes’.
“Didn’t the magician Riotro use compulsion on them?”
The guard struggled within for a moment, but then calmed. “Only a few.”
“King Gastal? Did Riotro use a spell on him?”
The guard’s eyes widened with fear. He merely shook his head.
Lia clenched her fists and growled like a cat. “Such treachery. It shouldn’t go unpunished.”
Trak looked at her. “I am no one’s assassin, you know that.”
Lia pursed her lips, as the old Pullia came out. “I do know that, and that may keep the throne from me.” She looked at Trak, who looked at her right back and put the guard back to sleep.
“Don’t be so negative,” Trak said. “I believe in self-defense, so I won’t let Gastal harm you.”
Lia patted Trak on his shoulder. “I know.” Lia said that, not Pullia.
Trak broke the index fingers of all of the assassins, as well as the woman, and dragged them outside Lia’s rooms. “These were waiting for the princess with arms drawn,” he said to two astonished guards. “They needed punishment. A healer will need to see them.”
Lia looked at Trak. “And who will heal my father? He’s dead because of Riotro.” She put her arms around Trak. “I never got along with him, but there is nothing I can do to bring him back and tell him that I have changed.” She looked at Trak with glistening eyes. “Just a bit, I’ve changed.”
Trak let her sob for a bit. “I’m sorry you feel this way. I could never tell my mother that I loved her, but then I never even got a chance to know her.” He said it to comfort Lia, but felt it all the same.
She disengaged and kissed his cheek. “Thank you for being with me. You understand me more than anyone.”
Her comment and sincerity left Trak speechless.
~
The state dinner was to include newly installed ambassadors and their wives from Colcan and Santasia, as well as three members of the Kandannan delegation. The Colcanans had not yet arrived when Trak and Lia were announced.
The princess was seated at the right hand of King Gastal, yet Trak was given a seat far down the table across from four empty seats. He assumed those were mean for the Colcanans, who had yet to appear. He had been to few formal state dinners and had to search his mind to review all of Madame Barazzi’s lessons.
He looked down the long line of people, nearly to the other end of the table, but at least he had a clear view of Lia. Trak would enhance his hearing, if necessary, when Lia signaled with a tap on her ear. He shaped a shield close to his body, but hardened it.
The Colcanans were announced, and Trak’s eyebrows went up involuntarily when they announced Berin and Leaf Titrius as envoys from Colcan. They both walked in accompanied by two Yellow Fox Vashtans, and then sat across from Trak, looking as surprised as he.
“Trak Bluntwithe,” Berin said. “It has been a long time, has it not?” His voice sounded friendly, but his eyes told another tale.
“It hasn’t been quite long enough, Berin.” He turned his gaze on Leaf, who looked uneasy. The Vashtans looked on without emotion. “And Leaf. Imagine I am sitting across from a joined pair. I guess you lose some of your advantage when you are in the same room together, don’t you?”
Those who overheard their conversation looked rather confused by Trak’s exchange with the Colcanans.
“I chanced to see Valanna Almond a few months ago in Pestle,” Leaf said, running a finger over the tablecloth in front of her.
“I know,” Trak said. Valanna had told him of her adventures during their brief interlude together. “She is now the fifth wife of King Marom, enjoying the title of Princess.”
Leaf nodded. Trak thought he could see genuine sympathy in her eyes. “We heard she is back in Pestle.”
“Is she?” Trak shrugged his shoulders. He looked up the table at Lia and back to them. “Right now, I have another princess to protect. I hope I can do a better job.”
Leaf leaned forward to see Lia and looked back at him. “We heard about your display in the Throne Room. I wish I had been there to witness poseless magic. I’ve never heard of anyone mastering it. They always blow themselves up or suffer some other grisly death.” She waved her hand, still playing the role of an innocent woman. Now, Trak knew better.
He put out his hand and spelled a magician’s light. He willed it from his fingertips to his shoulder and back again, having it change colors as it went without moving a muscle. “There. That’s a trick I haven’t tried before.”
The table had silenced before Trak had finished his demonstration. He stood, and a few people flinched. “I am sorry, King Gastal. That was rude of me.” He bowed in the king’s direction, but made sure his bow actually went to Lia. His eyes locked with hers. “I
won’t perform so capriciously in the future, Your Highness.” That was the honorific he had reserved for Lia, but only she knew that. Trak caught the ghost of a smile, but Gastal didn’t pick up the nuance. He wasn’t meant to.
“I would appreciate that, Master Bluntwithe.” He nodded with his head. “You may sit down now.”
Trak sat down and looked directly into Berin’s eyes. The man couldn’t maintain eye contact, but muttered the word ‘Innovator’ as if it were a curse.
“That’s right, Berin. I am an Innovator. If you ever cross me, I will pull down every tower in Bitrium, do you understand? Do you doubt that I have the power?” Trak moved Berin’s chair back an inch with a thought. Berin bit his tongue and let the chair stay where Trak moved it.
“My, my,” Leaf said. “You have grown in every way since I gave you lessons in Pestledown.”
“You gave Master Bluntwithe lessons?” one of the Toryan nobles said.
Leaf laughed and proceeded to describe all of Trak’s inadequacies. Trak had always thought Leaf to be a friend, but that mask had finally slipped. He wondered how much Leaf had laughed to herself at Valanna trying her hand at spying in Pestledown.
He looked up the table and noticed Lia tapping on her ear. He enhanced his hearing and ignored Leaf’s discussion.
“You must do something about that Bluntwithe barbarian,” the king said. “He is a fool.” The king turned away when he made eye contact with Trak. “I even imagine he can hear me from all the way down there.” He gave Lia an uncomfortable smile.
“He is part Toryan, you know. His grandmother lived in Kizru, a full Toryan.”
“I want him out of the castle.”
“I won’t permit it. You tried to have him killed twice today, maybe three times—”
“Three times?” The king looked confused.
Trak just received verification that the carriage over the cliff wasn’t the king’s work, so it truly had to be King Basiul or Lenis’s father.
“Do you have a death wish, Uncle?” Lia said quietly in the king’s ear. Trak barely picked up her words.
The king looked nervous, and his forehead began to glisten with sweat. “No.”
