Blackveil (71 page)

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Authors: Kristen Britain

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #fantasy, #Epic

BOOK: Blackveil
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“Trace reached Tower of the Ice and has some news for us.”
“Don’t worry,” she told the horse. “I’ll be back to finish.”
He swished his tail as if to say she had better be.
“What is it about?” Dale asked as they set off.
“I don’t know,” Alton replied. “They wouldn’t say until I got you two.”
All three of them picked up their pace, which carried them rapidly across the encampment and into the tower.
“This must be the esteemed Estral Andovian,” Itharos said when they entered the tower chamber. “I am honored to meet you, my lady.” He bowed.
“Estral, meet Itharos of Tower of the Ice,” Dale said.
“It is good to see you as well, Rider Littlepage,” Itharos said. “All three of you. In fact, a party would—”
“Not now,” Merdigen interrupted, an irritable counterpoint to Itharos’ flamboyance. “Rider Burns has received some news that you must hear.”
“Well?” Alton said.
“
I’m
not going to tell you,” Merdigen replied. “There is a way you can communicate with Rider Burns directly, as the wallkeepers once did. Itharos and I assume it will work anyway. It’s been a while since it was last done . . .”
“There’s a way to do this and you didn’t tell me?” Alton demanded.
“Didn’t seem necessary since you’ve never had anyone stationed in the other towers before.”
Alton wondered fleetingly what other interesting details Merdigen had chosen not to reveal.
“You must all go to the center of the chamber and place your hands on the tempes stone,” Merdigen instructed. “Itharos and I will do the rest.”
Alton wasted no time and Estral and Dale were right behind him. They placed their hands on the tempes stone. At first nothing changed in the grassy plains at the center of Tower of the Heavens. Then Merdigen and Itharos, who stood nearby, vanished. Silvery runes came to life in the air, pulsating with light, circling them.
Alton heard Estral’s sharp intake of breath beside him. “Don’t break contact with the stone,” he told her.
“I won’t.”
The runes merged and shimmered until a human form materialized, Trace suspended above the ground, a corona of green light flashing around her, the green of tourmaline.
“There you are,” she said, her voice sounding as if she were right there with them. “Thank the gods.”
“Trace?” Alton said. “Can you hear me?”
“Yes, yes I can. I can see all three of you, too.”
“Merdigen says you have something to tell us.”
“I do, though it wasn’t easy to get it out of Connly. I don’t think he wanted to worry me—us—but when I contacted him to pass on your news about the Sleeper to Captain Mapstone and King Zachary, I could tell something was wrong.”
“And?” Alton pushed.
Trace’s shoulders sagged. “When I finally got him to talk, I found out ... I found out there was another assassination attempt on King Zachary, and that this one may yet prove successful.”
“No . . .” Dale murmured.
Estral’s free hand found Alton’s.
Trace explained how the assassin used an arrow tainted with poison and successfully impaled the king, and how Ben tried to heal him but was in turn overcome.
“The king has survived thus far,” Trace said. “And each day buys more hope, but Connly does not know how much of the truth he’s getting from those closest to the king.”
“It isn’t like the captain to hide the truth from her Riders,” Dale said.
“No,” Trace agreed, “it is not. Connly hasn’t been able to see her. Destarion claims she’s been taken ill, and has confined her to the mending wing. He says she’ll recover and not to worry.”
“Who is in charge?” Alton asked, his chest tight.
“Connly is in charge of the Riders,” Trace said. “He reports mainly to Colin Dovekey. As for the realm ...” Her pause was ponderous. “As for the realm, we now have a queen.”
Estral and Dale gasped.
“Lady Estora,” Alton murmured.
Trace nodded, the corona of green light flaring around her head with the gesture. “
Queen
Estora.”
“But how?” Dale demanded. “If the king is so injured—”
“Exactly why she’s been made queen.” Alton, the son and heir of a lord-governor who had grown up immersed in the politics and machinations of the provincial court, could see all too clearly what had happened. “King Zachary’s condition must be truly precarious for them to go forward with something like this. A deathbed wedding.”
“Someone wanted to ensure there was continuity of power,” Estral added. “But what of an heir? Surely the king had someone in mind in case something like this happened.”
“Even if the king had an heir,” Alton said, “it would cause a disruption, not something we need right now. Just what Second Empire would want.”
They all fell silent, absorbing all that Trace had told them, and what it might mean for their future. A future without King Zachary? Alton shook his head. It would be a blow to the realm, a blow to himself, for he’d admired King Zachary, who always put his people before himself. Could he already be gone, and those closest to him had not yet revealed the truth?
And Karigan. Now that he knew where her affections truly lay, he couldn’t help but hurt for her. She would not know until she came back from Blackveil. If she came back. Estral squeezed his hand, and the somber look she gave him indicated her thoughts were along the same lines.
“What does Connly want us to do?” Alton asked Trace.
“To keep doing as we’re doing. Our orders have not changed. Meanwhile, he’s going to find out what he can do about the captain, and take your information about the Sleepers to the queen. He wanted me to tell you to remember we are still His Majesty’s Messenger Service, but if the king dies, we are the queen’s Riders.” A solemn silence followed this pronouncement.
“I’d like us to touch base daily,” Alton told Trace. “More often if necessary.”
“Absolutely.”
When they said their good-byes, Trace vanished and Merdigen reappeared.
“We’ve got to tell the others,” Alton said. “Can we do it this same way?”
Merdigen nodded. “Except, obviously, with the towers east of the breach.”
“I can ride to Garth,” Dale said.
Alton nodded. “He and Fern will need to know about Haurris and the Sleepers, as well. We need to impress upon everyone just what Connly said, that we need to keep doing our duty, whether we are the king’s Riders, or the queen’s.”
THREATS
A
bell tolled through the impenetrable blackness. Its sonorous clanging scraped Laren’s mind raw, and all she could think was that it was a death bell, ringing out the news. The news of . . .
So trapped in the tide of the dark was she that at first she could not remember, but as she tossed beneath blankets, the horizon lightened to gray, only to falter and dim again as she dreamed of arrows, arrows impaling a little boy she loved very much.
The bell pealed out one last note that hung in the air.
“Zachary!”
She sat up, blinded by light, disoriented. Where was she? This was not her bed.
Someone’s hand pressed her shoulder and she sank back into her pillows. “Easy, Red.”
At the sound of Elgin’s voice, Laren sighed and rubbed her eyes. When they adjusted to the light, her vision was blurry and her head throbbed. “Terrible dream,” she murmured. Her mouth was dry. “Terrible dream about Zachary.” She floundered for a cup of water on the bedside table. Elgin saw what she was after and helped her drink. When she drained the cup, he filled it for her again from a pitcher. This time she drank more slowly.
“What happened?” she asked. “Where am I?”
“Destarion said you fell ill night before last,” Elgin replied. “You’re in the mending wing.”
“I don’t remember . . .” Her head hurt too much and she was too groggy to recall the other night’s events. “I heard the death bell.”
“Death bell? Just now? Nah, that was just the midday bell.”
“Then it was all a dream,” she whispered in relief. “Zachary is all right.”
There was a painful period of silence before Elgin spoke again. “I don’t know what your dream was, and while that was not a death bell, the prince—the king is not all right, but he lives. For now.”
“Oh, gods.” Unbidden tears streamed down her cheeks as she pieced together shreds of memory. The mad ride down the Winding Way with Ben, the wagon charging up the street bearing Zachary impaled with an arrow and Lord Coutre dying beside him. “Tell me, tell me about him.”
“Well,” Elgin said, “I don’t know much more than he made it through two nights.”
It gave Laren hope. If Zachary made it through two nights ... Now he just had to keep making it. He had to!
“Your Riders have been worried about
you,
” Elgin said quietly.
She squinted at him, made out his blurry form sitting in a chair beside her bed. “I don’t think I was sick. I don’t know.” She racked her brain, searching for other memories of the day. She recalled being in Zachary’s quarters and talking to Colin. She remembered Lady Estora coming to see Zachary.
“Destarion said it came on rapid. He thought maybe it was the strain.”
That certainly could be, she thought. However, her vision was already subtly improving and the headache lifting. Elgin was less of a blur. In fact, she could discern dark shadows beneath his eyes, a grayness to him she had not seen before.
“There is something else you’ll want to know about the king,” he said. “He’s a married man now. We have a queen.”
“What?”
Laren sat bolt upright and the world darkened once more and she thought she might fall back into unconsciousness.
“Easy there, Red,” Elgin said. “The menders wanted me to warn you to take it slow.”
His voice anchored her and she blinked away the dark. “They did it,” she whispered as a rush of memory hit her all at once, the heated discussion with Colin, the tea. “Those bastards. They did it.”
“Er, you’re not calling the king and his new queen ...”
“No, I mean Colin and the others. His conspirators. They got Zachary married. Tell me, have my Riders gone out with the news of any of this?”
Despite her obvious disorientation and emotional behavior, Elgin remained calm, steady, her anchor. “Counselor Dovekey ordered them out late this morning with the joyous news.”
Laren crushed handfuls of blanket in her fists. No doubt they downplayed Zachary’s injury, as well, if that was even included in the message. Oh, yes, she had done what she could to promote the forthcoming marriage between Zachary and Estora, but she hadn’t wanted it to come about in this manner. Not at all. Not through duplicity. There were those who would see through the deception no matter how well concealed, and if that happened, it would only make matters worse.
She threw her blanket off and swung her legs over the side of the bed. They’d clothed her in a sleeping gown, but she was relieved to see her uniform hanging on hooks. She jumped to her feet.
And the room slanted and the gray pervaded her vision.
“Whoa, lass!” Elgin said. “Steady now. Remember, take it slowly.”
She sank back down onto the bed and glared at Elgin, her hands trembling. “They dosed me with something, Chief,” she said. “They put something in my tea. They did not want me to interfere with their little plan.” She thought he’d probably think her raving, delirious. He did not move or react to her words, but rubbed his chin thoughtfully as if considering her sanity.
“Huh,” he said finally. “Who all is involved?”
Laren closed her eyes and sent up a small prayer of thanks to the heavens. He believed her. Colin and the others probably preferred to cast doubt on her rationality, which could only serve their own cause. If she gainsayed them, they could undermine her authority, her very sanity, so no one believed her. Her assertions would be brushed aside as the ravings of a woman grief stricken by the loss of someone she was so very close to. She’d been in such despair, they’d say, illness had weakened her mind.

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