Season of Glory
Page 4
His nostrils flared. He didn’t like it when I made him take responsibility for errors. “Yes, Majesty.”
I sighed heavily and turned to walk the rest of the way to the hospital. Inside the long, cavernous room, multiple beds were occupied, but I spied my Council at the far end, loitering around a pale Max. A woman sat on Daivat’s lap, kissing him as he sloppily gestured with a glass of wine. Others gathered around Fenris. I cleared my throat, and Kendric looked up. With a quiet word, all rose to their feet.
“Highness,” said Kendric, nervously clearing his throat before bowing hurriedly and then glancing at Sethos and me. “You have returned. We have much to tell you.”
“Get out,” I said to the women. “Be gone!” I growled when they paused and looked to Fenris and Daivat before obeying. They hurried past me. But my eyes remained on my men. I wanted to yell, but I was conscious of Max and forced myself to focus on him first. I slipped past Fenris to the bed. Max was on a respirator, and he looked ghastly, like he’d faced death and only narrowly avoided succumbing. His eyes were mere slits. “How is he?” I bit out. “What is the prognosis?”
“They don’t know,” Sethos said, reaching out to put a hand on my shoulder. He’d known this too, then. Known that Max’s life hung in the balance.
I edged out from under his hand and faced him and the others. “You have the best doctor for him?”
“Of course. We will summon him so you can speak to him yourself—”
“Not now,” I interrupted. I stared at the others. “Tell me what happened!”
“It was her Knight, Majesty,” Daivat growled. “The one they call Ronan. He was in our prison.”
“Are you telling me,” I said, walking toward Fenris until I’d backed him against the wall, “that you allowed Ronan—a Knight of the Last Order—anywhere near the Council chambers? In the palace at all? When and how was he even arrested?”
“He returned with Lord Cyrus after we’d departed,” Sethos said, leaning against the wall with a sigh, crossing his arms. “Cyrus claimed he had captured him in the desert. That he wanted it to be a surprise for you upon your return.”
I struggled to absorb this. “Regardless of Lord Cyrus’s stated desire to surprise me,” I said to Sethos, “you didn’t think it wise that I know of it? And did you not think twice about bringing him here? You know what the elders say about a Remnant and Knight together. They’re three times as powerful.”
Sethos’s eyes moved to what remained of my Council, his gaze silently reproachful. My Council of Five, I thought bitterly, wondering which noble would soon be vying for the coveted sixth spot that Cyrus had vacated in this treasonous act. The thought of it made me feel nauseous. Betrayed. As well as deeply hurt. Cyrus had been one of my favorites among the Council. He was far more serious and thoughtful than the rest. It dawned on me then. Only four were present. “Where is Broderick?”
Fenris stiffened, and Daivat’s head slumped. “He’s dead,” Sethos said. “He was killed in the fight that ensued as they battled to leave the palace.”
I slumped to the cot beside Maximillian. “Dead,” I muttered, trying to get my head around this latest blow. Ronan. He had to have been the one that killed him. Surely Cyrus wouldn’t have gone so far. We were like brothers, my Six and I. We had been together since the day I had to send my twin away to the Isle of Catal and Sethos realized I mourned for him in more ways than one.
I rubbed my head again. “How did Ronan escape the dungeon and make it all the way here, with so many soldiers on each level?”
They all shook their heads and looked away or to the floor.
“And Cyrus …” I said, repeating his name, still trying to believe that everything had transpired as they’d said. It didn’t make sense. Why would Cyrus give up all he had here? And, yet, the pull of my fellow Ailith was strong. Had I not felt it myself? Did others feel that way about them too, even if they weren’t of Ailith blood? Was that the key to their draw? Why so many were following them now among the Trading Union?
“Cyrus fell for that girl at Castle Vega,” Kendric said. “We thought it was a fling, but when we found out she was a follower of the Way …”
“We thought it best if she was removed before becoming a serious … distraction,” Fenris said distastefully.
I stared at him as the pieces fell into place. “So you killed her. Murdered her.”
Fenris frowned at my surprise and horror. “Well, it was poison, Majesty, as we’ve utilized before in such circumstances.”
I closed my eyes and turned slightly away from them, sickened. What if they had poisoned Dri? How might I have felt? This was what had turned Cyrus. Why he’d been willing to do what he had. “And …?” I asked.
“He was seen carrying her out of Castle Vega. He explained it away as too much drink to the guards and said he was taking her home.”
I resumed rubbing my temples. “And returned with Ronan as his prisoner.” It had been the Knight’s way in—the only, desperate way in—to Palace Pacifica. I had to admire the sheer bravado of it. The risk he’d taken to get to Dri.
And now he’d stolen her away.
“It all happened so fast,” Fenris said, daring to look me in the eyes. “If you’d been here, if you’d seen what they did to poor Max, how they cut him down in cold blood, you’d share our desire for retribution.”
I wrenched my eyes from him to Max, my dearest friend. My most trusted confidante. It was Max I’d go to before Sethos. It was Max who advised me, protected me, and helped me sort things out when I got confused. I squeezed my eyes shut. He couldn’t die. If he died …
On and on they went, telling me how Ronan and Cyrus and Dri broke through the Council chamber windows and ran to the forest. How others were there, ready to defend them. How they’d all but disappeared into the tunnels and then out, and later been tracked to a farm where a doctor obviously treated one who had lost a great deal of blood. After that, despite heavy searching, the trail had run cold.
I let silence fall before I dared ask what I had to.
“Did she … did Andriana go willingly?” I said, keeping my eyes on Max and his machine-driven, rhythmic breathing.
For a moment, I thought no one would answer me. “Yes,” Kendric said at last.
I took a breath, then two, considering what it meant, to breathe within this space that I had come to associate sharing with Andriana. “Summon the doctor,” I said softly. “And the rest of you, go to your quarters for the night. Alone,” I added, knowing there was venom and disappointment dripping from my tone. “In the morning, I’ll expect you to rise the moment I call.”
RONAN
At the end of first watch, I continued walking the perimeter as they slept, but it was Dri I looked to, again and again, even though I could see little of her in the darkness. She was sound asleep, with her back practically against Bellona’s. Vidar snored loudly, but it didn’t rouse the women, Lord Cyrus, or Dri’s parents. We were all exhausted. I was fighting to stay awake until Niero relieved me.
I settled on a rock near the smuggler who drove us, asleep himself. The black market boss had sent his convoy on a separate track from us, not wanting to endanger the whole shipment. Our driver had a few crates and barrels that we rode atop of, though, just in case we went undetected and he made it.
Content that we were safe here, for the moment, two-thirds across the Great Expanse, I looked up to the starry skies and then rubbed my face and eyes, feeling every ache of the battle behind us—in particular, a nagging ache at my side. I knew I’d been injured in the fight and that the Maker had somehow healed me—even without Tressa present—but not much more. I hadn’t really wanted to go back to that memory. Remembering the sword piercing me. The moment I knew that it was likely a deathblow, one from which I’d die slowly. The moment I knew I had failed Dri.
Dri, I thought, staring over at her silhouette in the darkness, remembering how it felt to be leaving her as I lost consciousness, wondering if I’d ever wake. Losing
her forever. Abandoning my post as her guardian, her protector. And then later, rising to consciousness, Dri and Niero hovering near.
Suddenly, there was a movement beside me, and I half rose, startled and already drawing my sword, when I realized who it was. “Ah, Niero,” I whispered, relieved. “Just in time. I didn’t know how much longer I’d last.”
“I thought that might be the case,” he said quietly, settling down on the rock and casting an eye over our sleeping companions. But when I turned to go, he gestured to me. “Sit a moment with me.” He waved back to the rock.
It was the last thing I felt like doing. I wanted to unroll my blanket and settle down next to Andriana. To close my eyes for a few hours before daybreak was upon us. But I took a deep breath and returned to my seat.
“You cannot continue to hold on to your resentment with Dri,” he said, without preamble.
I frowned. “Resentment?” Was that what I was feeling?
“I think you’re well aware of the divide between you,” he said. “And a Remnant and a Knight … they cannot abide by divisions. It leaves you vulnerable in a way the enemy might use.”
I took a deep breath. It was true. Our trainer had drilled it into our minds from the start. Made us work out our petty grievances. Drove us to build our relationship in every permissible way.
“I thought you’d be glad for a bit of separation between us,” I said, knowing there was an edge of bitterness in my tone.
He glanced at me from the side, and I knew my own shame. There was no truth to that. Not really.
“You and Andriana,” he began, pausing, as if choosing his words, “are on a path that none of us had foreseen. Love blooms where it will, and with all you’ve built together, all you’ve endured, and all you will endure, it will likely deepen still. I don’t sense displeasure in that from the Maker. Not now. Do you?”
I turned to face him more fully. “Wait. Are you … blessing us? Giving us permission to deepen our relationship?”
He shifted. “I’m saying it’s already done. Your relationship is what it is. And now you must make the most of that, rather than allowing it to become a detriment. Let’s follow where the Maker leads. Forgive as you have been forgiven. Give up this irritation, this jealousy over what happened to Andriana with Keallach, and move on. We have no time for it. You have a bigger call on your life, do you not?”
A desert breeze blew then, fanning the flames of the dying campfire and sending sparks swirling into the sky to meld with the stars. Niero’s words washed over me and through me, and I felt a curious sense of healing to my heart, my ego. A renewal, of sorts.
What was it about Niero, our captain, that made me feel so at ease? How did he speak to my deepest needs and address my weaknesses, all the while calling me to more? He was like no man I’d ever met before, except maybe our trainer. Did it just come from living in Community all his life? What was it about him that made him so … different?
Something niggled at my memory, but then it was lost to me. I rose and clasped arms with him. “Thank you, Raniero. I’ll consider your words. Keep close watch.”
“I shall.”
I made my way over to my bedroll, settled down beside Dri, and was just thinking that I didn’t ache so much now, from any of my wounds, when I gave in to sleep’s siren call.
CHAPTER
5
KEALLACH
I sat straight up in bed, just as the sun tinged the cloudy sky a deep coral. There was one thought in my mind. Why had Ronan been brought to the Council chambers at all? And why Andriana? What business had the Six had, calling her to them, there, without my permission? I threw aside my covers and strode out of my room barefoot, clad in nothing but my long nightshirt, and startled two sleepy guards outside.
“My-my lord?” stammered the first guard. But I ignored him.
I walked down the hall and turned the corner into the next, which ended in the Council chambers, a grand room with towering ceilings and paintings all about. My eyes scanned the perimeter. On the far wall, where the two-story windows were, work had already begun to replace the priceless, rare glass. Consequently, the room held the morning’s chill, and I rubbed my hands together to warm them. I looked to the front of the room, where the Council chairs sat in a row, then to the guards who had followed me.
“Tell me what happened the night Lord Jala was injured.”
The two looked at each other then back to me. “We were of course with you, Majesty, on your journey,” said one.
“I know that,” I said irritably, waving a hand. “But guards talk. What have you heard about that night from those who were here?”
The two shared a brief look of consternation and then one of them stepped forward. “The Council summoned Andriana to the chambers, here. Her Knight, Ronan, was held in the antechamber. As were her parents.”
“Her pparents,” I sputtered. “Andriana’s parents. They are alive? They were here?”
“Yes, my lord,” the guard said, shifting uncomfortably in light of my apparent lack of knowledge.
My eyes tracked left and right across the fine speckles of the smooth terrazzo floor then back to my guards. “Why were they all in the Council chambers, together? Why was Andriana brought before the Council at all?”
The guard’s mouth opened as if to speak then abruptly closed when he caught sight of something over my shoulder.
“Because they wished to secure Andriana’s agreement to your union,” Sethos said, striding through the door, fully dressed. “And offer the opportunity for her parents to bless that union, of course,” he added.
My eyes narrowed. I did not appreciate him butting in. “That is false,” I said. “Tell me the truth.”
“It is the truth, Majesty. Wouldn’t it be your heart’s desire to have a woman by your side like Andriana? We knew that, given her ties to the Valley, she’d do best with some sort of familiar support, so I had them brought here.”
“Without my knowledge.”
“You have far too much to consider each day already, Majesty. The Council and I wished to ease your burdens. If it had all worked as we wished, wouldn’t it have been the culmination of all we’d dreamed about?” He turned to the guards. “Step outside and close the door, please.”
“No,” I said through gritted teeth, as they turned to go. “Remain here.” The two resumed their positions.
“Keallach, really,” Sethos complained. “Isn’t this a conversation best left for—”
“Andriana believed her parents had been killed by the Sheolites. Have you had them in custody all this time?”
“I have. I assumed that at some point they would prove useful.”
“Useful. As in, you could threaten them in order to force her agreement.”
“Certainly not,” he sniffed. “You speak of the woman you wished to be empress. I did not wish to harm her, only help in wooing her to your side.”
I swallowed, disliking the past tense of his wording. “If you did not intend to force her hand, why was Ronan brought up from the dungeon?”
Sethos was silent.
I stepped toward him. “If you intended only good for Andriana’s parents, why keep them in the dungeon? And why would you not inform me? I assume they’ve been here ever since the night of our Call?”
His lips formed a line, his eyes moving quickly, clearly thinking. “Our entire goal was to support you, Keallach. To see your vision fulfilled. And when the Council and I knew you felt something for the girl, we wanted it all the more, and we were willing to take extraordinary measures to accomplish your union.”
I shook my head and let out a long breath of exasperation. Extraordinary measures. I could well imagine what that meant.
“To have brought together the empire and the Trading Union through a symbolic marriage,” he went on, “would have saved countless months of effort and probably many lives. There would likely have been half the conflict we expect now, what with followers of the Way daring to gather publicly.” He sniffe
d and gazed at me down his long, straight nose. “They are a rapidly growing force to be reckoned with, Majesty. And they are a closed-minded, stubborn lot,” he added. “Thoroughly opposed to us ruling them. Do you not see? Your marriage to Andriana would have gone a long way to resolving all of that. We simply intended to aid you in any way we could.”
I sighed and studied the floor again. I could see the wormlike marks of a recent mop, but there … I crouched and licked a finger and rubbed it across a dark brown spot. When I looked at my finger, what I saw was plainly blood. Out here. Far away from where Maximillian had likely been injured. I looked to my guards. “How many died here?”
“Seven guards, Majesty, and Lord Broderick, of course,” one of the guards answered. “As well as Lady Andriana’s father.”
“No,” Sethos said, shaking his head and drawing closer. “He faked his own death. Part of an elaborate scheme with Cyrus and Ronan.”
“He had to fake his own death? So they were threatening him.”
“For reasons I already described,” he said with another sniff. “But then Ronan and her father came up with their clever ploy, surprised the guards and the Council, and made their escape.”
I frowned. There were pieces missing to this puzzle. But Sethos hadn’t been here. He’d been with me. I thought of awakening the Council and grilling them, but I didn’t entirely trust them. “Did any guards survive the attack?” I asked. “Anyone who was in this room through the entire meeting?”
The guard shook his head. “No, Majesty.”
I sighed, crossed my arms, and looked to the ceiling. “And Ronan. Tell me why they brought Ronan up from the dungeon.”
“As a last resort,” Sethos said idly. “Maximillian thought that if all else failed they could barter her agreement to your union in exchange for Ronan’s freedom.”
I groaned and shook my head. “Why? Why could they not allow it all to unfold as it was? I was making headway with her, Sethos. I know I was.”
He stared at me sadly. “Unfortunately, we were running out of time. Their power grows, Keallach. And so does their following. Exponentially. If we do not quell their uprising soon, they will likely disrupt trade imports, and if they somehow manage to draw the Trading Union into an actual union, they could represent a threat to Pacifica. Your dreams of an empire? Gone.”