A Call to Arms: Book One of the Chronicles of Arden (37 page)

More voices echoed through the corridor as royal soldiers continued to pour into the gallery. The boom of Seneschal Koal’s voice could be heard above the others. He shouted for the guardsmen to spread out. “Search every room, every shadow! Find the criminal and bring him to the King so justice may be served!”

As the seneschal rounded the corner, Gib and Joel got to their feet. The soldier who had found them bowed and cleared his throat. “Seneschal Koal, these two boys were with the assassin’s weapon.”

Koal fixed a terrifying glare on the empty crossbow before responding to the guard. “Send for Aodan. He’ll want to inspect the weapon. Touch nothing and allow no one to disturb anything until he arrives.”

The sentinel nodded. “Yes, Seneschal.”

Koal turned his attention to the trainees. “What are the two of you doing up here? And what happened to Gib’s face?” His features softened just a little as he took Joel under one arm. “Are you both all right?”

Gib winced. His face did hurt. Gingerly, he touched his nose and lip. A sick knot formed in his guts at the feel of warm blood.
Chhaya’s bane. That bastard did a number on my face
. “I–I saw the man who attacked the King. H–he was standing right here. I tried to prevent it but—he elbowed me when I tried to stop him.” Nausea swept over him. “Is the King going to die?”

Koal kept his voice low. “No. King Rishi is wounded, but Marc is with him. He was complaining about being forced to sit as I left the ballroom. He seemed to be himself.” The seneschal set one large hand on Gib’s shoulder. “This man, the assassin, what did he look like? Was he working alone?”

“Y–yes, he was the only one. He was sort of tall, compared to me anyway. He was wearing stolen armor from—” Gib paled. “—from the guardsman he murdered. I can’t remember any other specifics. I–I didn’t get a good look at him, sir. It all happened so fast. He took off running just before help arrived. I’m sorry.”

“Did you see which way he ran?”

Gib nodded, trying to get his foggy mind to form coherent sentences. “He ran toward the opposite stairwell. I think he was trying to escape to the upper level.” He watched as the seneschal’s mouth fell into an even deeper scowl. “Will they be able to find him? He’s dressed like one of the royal guardsmen.”

“The Royal Guard all know one another. When they see his face, they’ll know he’s not one of them,” Koal replied, tone angry. The seneschal opened his mouth to fire another question but stopped short as an angry command was bellowed from above.

Gib sucked in a breath of air, a chill making its way up his spine. He would recognize that menacing voice anywhere. Liro Adelwijn.

Joel’s face went grim. “What is Liro doing up there? Why is he giving orders?”

Koal also looked up. “He’s acting on behalf of Neetra. The High Councilor has delegated this task to his understudy. The King was—preoccupied and voiced no command otherwise.”

The sound of shouts and scuffling could be heard overhead. Gib flinched, and Joel and his father froze. A loud clang brought to mind more toppling candelabrum and the angry cries of guardsmen caused Gib’s stomach to heave. Had they found and cornered the assassin?

“Seneschal Koal!” someone was shouting from the stairwell. “We have located the assassin—”

Before the soldier could finish his call, Koal sped away from Gib and Joel with a single command for them to stay. The severity of his tone was enough for neither of them to question further. Joel held up one hand as his father disappeared around the corner. “Be careful.” The words were so soft Gib barely caught them.

“He’ll be surrounded by the soldiers,” Gib reassured, wishing he could take Joel’s hand. “He’ll be okay.”

Liro’s voice rose above the din upstairs. “He’s one man! Catch him and hold him d—”

The unexpected break in his words caused both students to stiffen and share a concerned glance. Without a word, they rushed to the edge of the balcony and looked up, hoping to catch a glimpse of what was happening above them. Through the darkness, it was difficult to see anything until—

Gib grabbed Joel, yanking him back from the railing. An ear-piercing scream rippled through the air as a body plunged from the third story balcony. It barely missed the students on its descent. A sickening squelch of bone and flesh came as the body hit the stone floor below, and more voices cried out in horror.

“
Oh Goddesses
.” Joel stood frozen, eyes wide with terror.

Gib held up a hand for his friend to stay. The older boy didn’t need to see the body if it was Liro or Koal—Gib took a deep breath and forced himself to peer over the railing.

Below, the body of the assassin lay in a tangle of unnaturally positioned limbs and the twisted cape of the dead soldier. King Rishi was on his feet, bleeding arm cradled to his chest, and glaring upward. For a terrifying second, Gib thought the King was looking at him—but, no, he was looking farther up.

Gib craned his neck and saw the hard, cold face of Liro Adelwijn as he stood at the third story balcony with not a single hair out of place nor bead of sweat on his brow. He was the deadly eye of the storm.

“Tell me it wasn’t Father or Liro.” Joel’s voice was a broken gasp.

Gib whirled around. “No. It was the assassin. He’s dead.”

Joel put his hands over his face and sobbed openly. “Oh, thank the Two. I thought—for a moment—” The mage trainee shook his head, unable to continue speaking through the tears.

Gib came to Joel and put an arm around his shoulders. “No. It’s all right. Your father and brother are alive. I could see Liro above.”

Joel shuddered and wiped at his face. He took a step back from Gib. “Thank you.”

Gib wished he could offer more comfort, but now was not the time or place. A moment later, Koal had raced back down the stairs, Liro right behind. The seneschal’s face was set in a hard scowl as he interrogated his eldest son. “You had no choice? You’re sure of it?”

Liro’s soft voice dripped with venom. “Father, an armed assassin launched himself at me. What was I supposed to do? Fall victim? In the struggle, he toppled. There is nothing more to tell.”

Koal glared hard. “He should have been questioned! You’ll have the King to answer to for this.”

“Your concern for my welfare is overwhelming. Really, I must insist you keep your head.”

The seneschal stopped short and turned to look over his son at length. With a sigh, he asked, “Are you all right?”

“So fatherly of you to inquire. I am fine.”

Joel ventured a step closer as the two adults approached. “I’m glad to see you’re not hurt, Liro. When the body fell, I feared the worst—”

Liro shot his younger brother a cold glare. “Yes. It would have been a tragedy for you, wouldn’t it? With me dead, you would be eldest and in line for the entirety of the Adelwijn estate.” He rolled his eyes. “Wipe your face, you child, before you bring any further disgrace upon us.”

Koal balked and Joel winced. Gib opened his mouth, trying to think of something to say in defense of his friend. Before any of them could retort, Liro waved them off and continued toward the stairwell to the ballroom. “Save your breath, all of you. It’s my duty to report to the King, seeing as preserving my own life cost the assassin his.”

Koal sighed and motioned for the two students to follow him down the stairwell. “Come. You both may have to explain what you saw to King Rishi as well.” Joel bit his bottom lip and dutifully shadowed behind his father. Dumbfounded, Gib had no choice but to do the same. He trailed his roommate in silence.
 

By the time they reached the ballroom, Joel had dried his face and gotten his breathing under control. Gib continued to glare at Liro’s back, hating how the elder brother made Joel feel and hating even more how nothing could be done for it.

The ballroom stood cold and deserted, save for a group of men gathered around a very irate and injured King Rishi. He stormed back and forth, face in a fearsome grimace with his bloody right arm hugged to his chest. A ragged hole in his uniform showed where the arrow had pierced him. All the other guests had been sent home and the cheerful music which had resonated off the marble walls was replaced by muted voices and nervous whispers.

Koal gave Joel and Gib a severe look before stopping long enough to speak to them. “You boys stand back. I have to speak with the King. Don’t move from this spot.” Neither said anything as they halted next to a pillar and watched the seneschal march away to join the other men. Not a word was exchanged between them and though neither drew attention to the fact, they both pointedly looked away from where the assassin’s body lay in a ruined heap on the opposite side of the room.

Instead, Gib focused his attention on the King and his council. Would Gib have to speak to him? Or worse—would he be questioned by the King directly? Gib didn’t know if he’d be able to answer. Neetra and Liro Adelwijn were standing close by, as were Diedrick Lyle, Anders Malin-Rai, and Joaquin Aldino. The other men who lingered were probably also council members. Gib didn’t know if he could speak in front of these learned, powerful men.

The youngest royal children and Queen Dahlia were already gone, no doubt swept off to safety. The strange Blessed Mages had disappeared as well. Hasain was the only other Radek present, his features pale and drawn. Dean Marc hovered beside the King, muttering none too politely about how difficult it was to work on a resistant patient. Paying no heed to the healer’s laments, King Rishi paced and fired questions at Liro and Koal.

“Who is this man? Does anyone recognize him? Is there any evidence of who he works for or if he acted alone?” The King narrowed his dark eyes at Liro. “He should have been brought to me alive for questioning, damn it!”

Gib bit his bottom lip and leaned against the pillar. Liro shouldn’t have looked so collected and confident. He should have been nervous. Gib knew that in the same position, he would have been desperately trying to explain himself. Instead, Liro seemed apathetic. He also appeared to be backed by no less than half the royal council—Neetra the loudest supporter of them all.

“My understudy acted as any rational man would, were they being attacked by an armed assassin,” the High Councilor replied. “Liro committed no crime by defending himself.”

A commotion erupted in the arched entranceway and a moment later King Rishi’s personal guard, Aodan, barreled into the ballroom. His face was pulled into a fearsome scowl as he nearly flew down the steps with the assassin’s battered crossbow under one arm. His voice was loud, and he came at Liro with such ferocity that Koal stepped between the two of them.

“What the hell happened up there? Why did ya throw him over?” Aodan demanded.

Liro didn’t even flinch. “The assassin came at me. I tried to stop him, but in the struggle he toppled.” He fixed the red-headed man with a cold glare. “How many times will I be asked this same question?”

Aodan pointed and snarled back, “Why were you up there anyway? Who called fer this whelp to be involved with security?” His one good eye glared around at the council.

Neetra stuck his nose in the air. “That was me. Liro is my understudy and I sent him to act on my behalf—”

“Yer a coward, Neetra Adelwijn, and this was a ploy to save your own neck.” Aodan aimed the crossbow, albeit empty, at Neetra and growled, “You sendin’ that boy up there has cost us our perpetrator. Who will we question now?”

Neetra’s high whine grated Gib’s nerves. “How dare you point that weapon at me! I could have your head, you filthy—”

“Damn it, Aodan, drop the bow!” Koal interjected. “And Neetra, calm yourself. We need to discuss this as rational men—”

“Enough!” King Rishi ordered. All the other men fell into grudging silence around him. The King’s word was final. Rishi pointed at the lifeless body still sprawled upon the ballroom floor. “We need to figure out who he was and who he worked for.”

Gib took a shuddering breath and couldn’t help but glance at the disheveled body lying motionless on the white marble floor. Three guards were posted around it, as if the deceased were going to jump up and go somewhere.

The sentinel trainee looked to Joel. “Are they going to—cover his body or something? They won’t just leave it there, will they?”

“No. They’ll get him moved,” Joel reassured. “His body will be cleaned and put in one of the common tombs.” Gib could feel the mage trainee’s eyes but lacked the strength to meet them. “If no one claims his body, that is.”