Blackveil (97 page)

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Authors: Kristen Britain

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

BOOK: Blackveil
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“Your presence is requested in the throne room, Captain,” the girl said.
Laren rose, wondering if she’d find out Zachary’s fate, and, finally, her own.
JUDGMENT
L
aren’s guard sputtered and cursed as he tried to keep up with her. He was not the youngest of soldiers and limped with a bad knee. Too bad, she thought. Confined to a room too long, no matter how spacious and comfortable, it felt good to be on the move, uncaged and stretching her legs to full stride, the blood pumping through her veins, even if she feared what may lie at the end.
She halted before the throne room doors to catch her breath and straighten her shortcoat, her guard stumbling up behind her. She recognized the Sergeant of Doors standing before her, with his vast ring of keys hanging from his belt. She nodded to him, and he nodded in return. To her guard he ordered, “Dismissed.” Then he and an underling opened the throne room doors for her to enter. She did so without looking back.
She strode down the runner as fast as decorum permitted, passing through columns of sunlight slanting through the tall windows that alternated with shadow. The light, the dark; the warm, the cool. She saw others there waiting for her, Castellan Sperren leaning on his staff of office, General Harborough whose blocky form was unmistakable, Master Destarion with his mender’s satchel slouched at his feet, and Colin Dovekey, whose black garb made him sink into shadow.
Estora sat upon her throne chair very still, seemingly turned to stone, her expression blank. Laren could not help but feel for her, placed as she was in so complicated a position.
Laren had taken in the assembled in mere moments as she walked, but her attention fell mainly on
him.
Zachary slumped in his chair next to Estora, his head bowed into his hand. Joy quickened her stride. He was awake! Out of bed even! It took great restraint for her not to run to him and hug him, but protocol did not allow it. Right now he was the king, and she his servant.
Her joy was also tempered by concern for the way his shoulders sagged, his thinness and pallor. He’d always been robust and strong and it was difficult to see him looking, to her eye, almost fragile.
When she reached the dais, she dropped to her knee with head bowed. “Your Highness . . . es.” She bit her lip at almost forgetting there were two now.
“Rise, Captain Mapstone,” Zachary said, his voice as she remembered, though the tone somehow quieter. “Rise and stand beside me as you are accustomed.”
When she stood and looked upon him, he smiled warmly at her and her eyes blurred with emotion. When she moved to his side of the dais, he added, “You are looking well. I had been told,” and now his tone was acerbic, “you’d been indisposed.”
“I am well now that I see you up and about, my lord. I had not heard . . .” She swallowed and thought she had better stop. It was not her time to speak, and she was not sure she could manage it without loosing a torrent of tears. All of her fear for his life—what could have been—was so raw and near the surface.
“Yes,” the king mused, stroking his beard. “One hears and does not hear many interesting things. I’ve assembled you all, my closest, my most
trustworthy
advisors, because of these things I’ve heard, and judgment must be rendered.”
The tiredness came out in his voice with these words, but his countenance was fierce as he looked down on the others. They, in turn, cast their gazes to the floor, their expressions sober, even strained.
“Castellan Sperren.”
The old man stepped forward. Laren thought he might crumble to dust right in front of them. “Your Highness?”
“I understand you did not initiate or conspire anything while I recovered from my so-called riding accident. You were laid up yourself. However, it is my understanding you did not voice opposition to the proceedings, either, which is personally distressing, but not a crime. You have been dutiful in your service to the realm since the days of my grandfather, and you gladly came out of retirement to be my castellan when the one that had been serving me turned out to be a traitor. It seems to me I have asked too much of you by keeping you here much longer than we originally agreed upon, and so I now commend you to your retirement, to which you may return with honor intact. Find ease and pleasure, old friend.”
Sperren trembled visibly, a sheen of tears on his wrinkled cheeks. He bowed and backed away. To Laren’s mind, it was very much past time. Sperren slept through more meetings than he was awake for, and his sharp mind had dulled considerably in recent years. He’d once been indispensible in his wisdom and advice, but no longer, and with all the challenges Sacoridia faced, Zachary needed the ablest, sharpest minds around him he could muster.
“I have been made aware of what went on around me while I lay unconscious,” Zachary said. “It saddens me that my own advisors, who knew me best, save one, had no confidence in my judgment, did not wish to take a chance in what I had or had not placed in the Royal Trust as far as a successor is concerned. I thought they knew me better than that. I had planned, in the event of my premature death, that a transition would occur as smoothly as possible. However, my advisors would not wait for the opening of the Royal Trust as law decrees must be done. Instead, they took matters into their own hands and moved up my wedding. A wedding I was not even conscious of.
“Meanwhile, my one advisor who did exhibit trust in me was dosed and bundled away under house arrest so she could not interfere with the plans of you gentlemen. Yes, I have heard all the reasons why you chose the course you did, listened to each of you by turn, but it all comes down to trust. I cannot have people around me who disrespect my wishes, disregard royal law, and who do not trust me. Master Mender Destarion.”
The mender stepped forward and swallowed hard. “Your Majesty.”
“You, like Sperren, have a long history of good service to the realm. In all but this you have attended me faithfully. As you know, such actions as you took should provoke the severest of penalties. Disabling one of my officers, my own messenger, in the course of her duties is enough for the ultimate punishment.”
“Yes, my lord,” Destarion whispered. “I am aware.”
“Yet I hesitate,” Zachary continued, “to condemn to death a learned man who has done more good in his service than bad. Therefore, I shall strip you of your status as chief of the menders, and reassign you to the River Unit, where they’ve an outpost in the far north by the headwaters of the Terrygood. They’ve been long without a proper mender, and I expect the settlers and lumbermen in the region will find your skills useful.”
Destarion looked humbled by the king’s mercy, but frightened as well. He was not a young man and he’d find conditions far more rugged up north than he did in the castle’s civilized, and warm, mending wing.
“General Harborough.”
The general clicked his heels together and bowed.
“You thought to support the conspiracy with the backing of the military. You, one of my best strategists.” Zachary shook his head. “That is a crime that requires the death penalty. However, I shall leave your fate in the hands of a military tribunal. In the meantime, you are stripped of all command, office, and insignia, and shall remain in prison until the tribunal comes to me with its recommendations.”
Zachary gestured and a pair of guards came to escort the former general away. He hung his head like a whipped dog as he left the throne room.
“Colin Dovekey.”
Colin stepped before the dais looking older than ever, his movements stiff.
“If there is something that makes me more angry than the conspiracy you organized, it’s being forced to sit here and pass judgment on good men. You led them into it.”
Colin fell to both knees. “I beg of you, Your Majesty, to condemn me to Saverill’s fate.”
“I will not be so merciful,” Zachary replied.
Merciful? The histories spoke of a traitor among the Weapons named Saverill who’d undergone weeks of torture for his crimes, only to be chained to the castle roof for the vultures to feed on. He’d still been alive.
“You are stripped of your authority over the Weapons, and I’m sending you to Breaker Island. You will never leave that island again, and your peers will decide what to do with you. Perhaps they will choose Saverill’s fate for you, or perhaps not, but they will ensure you never have a voice in the affairs of the realm again.”
A pair of Weapons led Colin from the throne room, followed by a dismissed Sperren and Destarion.
Laren could not believe they were let off so easily.
“Speak, Captain,” Zachary said. “You look . . . concerned.”
“They all could have received the death penalty. Easily. But you did not choose that for them.”
“It may be that I have. Destarion will find the north perilous, and I expect those judging Harborough and Colin to be very harsh. Condemning them to death all at once—men who were known to be very close to me—would raise questions I’d rather avoid regarding my close call with death and the validity of my marriage, among other things. I also took into consideration that they’re essentially good men who thought they were doing what was best for the realm, and depending on how things go for them, I may yet call on them. You can not simply replace all those years of experience, and I believe we’ve a trying time ahead of us.
“Now, to my Lady Estora . . .”
Estora stiffened, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the armrests of her chair. “I understand,” she said, “if you wish to invalidate the marriage contract.”
He gazed hard at her. “That could be easily done under the circumstances. My lady, you were placed in an untenable position, and it was your cousin who set these events in motion. You were made a victim in this. However, I find it grievous you saw fit to relieve Captain Mapstone of duty and place her under house arrest.”
“My lord,” Laren said.
He ignored her. “Laren Mapstone is closer to me than any blood relation has ever been. She practically raised me.”
“Zachary,” Laren tried again.
“Furthermore, she is apparently the only one who trusts my judgment.”
“Moonling!”
That caught his attention. “Queen Estora placed me under house arrest for my protection.”
“Say again?”
“She knew my opposition to the conspiracy placed me in danger from Lord Spane and the others, so she placed me out of reach. It certainly made
them
happy I was not out there contradicting them and turning the whole messenger service against them. You know what a disaster that would have been.”
He nodded slowly. Messengers on the loose carrying the truth to all corners of the realm—it would have caused problems on a grand scale for the conspirators.
“She also,” Laren continued, “wished to protect me from you.”
“What?”
“I offered her my fealty, to help her, but she believed I’d be better off away from the turmoil because we all knew you’d be angry if—when—you recovered, and she did not want you finding fault with my conduct.”
“I would know better,” he reflected, “or at least I hope I would.”
“You do have a temper,” Laren said. “Though you don’t show it often.”
He raised an eyebrow at her, then turned back to Estora, gazing at her with new respect. “I thank you then, for looking out for Laren, who supports me even if I apparently have a temper.”
Laren smiled.
“I know how much you value her,” Estora replied. “And I thought perhaps I should need her in the coming years, as well.”
He nodded gravely. “Though this has not been an auspicious start to our marriage, I am not inclined to invalidate the contract. I can’t imagine the havoc that would produce, and we’ve enough to worry about between Blackveil and Second Empire without adding to it.
“Also, between confessing to me and updating me on the realm’s affairs, Colin told me you came up with a clever strategy to trap Birch and his forces. With the loss of some very able advisors, it looks like I’ll be making use of your keen thinking.”
“Karigan is the clever one,” Estora said, gazing at her knees. Laren sensed a subtle intensification in Zachary’s regard. “I just used her example.”

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