Dark Lady's Chosen (14 page)

Kiara glanced around the table. Dravan and Casset looked clearly uncomfortable. Nuray leaned forward intently, as if watching a drama. Suphie crossed his arms and leaned back, scowling. Acton’s anger was clear in his face.
They may be obligated to go along with this,
but some of them don’t like it
, Kiara thought.

“Is Margolan governed by rumors?” Kiara replied. “In Isencroft, such serious charges require witnesses. Pray tell, have you any to your charge?” One hand rose to finger the crest at her throat, a reminder, in case any there had forgotten, of her own rank. The other hand fell to rest on her belly, silently underscoring her status as the mother of the heir.

“On more than one occasion, Bard Carroway has been seen to enter the queen’s rooms,”

Guarov replied, with a tone as if that settled the matter.

“And did your ‘witnesses’ bother to tell you than on both occasions, Lady Alle, my healer Cerise, and Macaria, my personal bard, were already in the room and remained there until Carroway left? We were never alone, at any time.”

“The rumors do not allege that you were alone, m’lady, but rather that you engaged in treasonous conduct.”

Kiara felt her cheeks redden with anger at the implication. “Is it your intention to call the heir to the Isencroft throne a whore who performs for an audience?” She could see the others wince at her plainspokenness.

“I did not use that word, m’lady.”

“You didn’t need to.”

“The fact remains—”

“You have no facts,” Kiara cut him off. “Only lies and rumors. Show your ‘witness.’”

“I’ve promised him protection.”

“To make accusations without risk?” Kiara’s voice was scornful. “This isn’t Nargi, where an angry scullery maid can concoct a charge of magery and have even a high priest burned alive.”

“It’s the charge of this Council to protect the interests of the king.”

“I rode beside Martris Drayke to take back the throne from the Usurper,” Kiara said coldly. “I fought beside him against Foor Arontala and the Obsidian King. Bard Carroway also risked his life to put Tris Drayke on the throne. Our loyalty is absolute.”

“Or opportune.” Heads swiveled toward Count Suphie. “After all, you were betrothed from birth to that same usurper, and broke that covenant to become his brother’s lover. So
technically
, this is the second instance of adultery.”

Kiara fixed Count Suphie with a hard glare. “The betrothal contract averted war between Eastmark and Isencroft. My uncle, King Kalcen, rescinded the charges against my mother when he took the throne.
Technically
,” she said, emphasizing the word through gritted teeth,

“that dissolved the reason for the covenant with Jared.”

“We’re willing to accept that it is not your fault, m’lady,” Guarov said in a placating tone.

“You’re new in our land, and our ways may be different to you. Bard Carroway, on the other hand, has a…. reputation… of which you might not have been aware. Don’t be ashamed to tell us that he forced you, and we’ll have the means to clear your name.”

“Old scandals reach even new ears,” Kiara replied disdainfully. “Your friend Lady Nadine preyed on the bard as a boy, earning her Bricen’s banishment. Now you offer me a bargain that is no bargain at all—to admit guilt and sacrifice the king’s loyal friend. Was this what you meant by having your servants send a shroud and burial oil as a gift for the child I carry?”

“A woman is never so tempted to betrayal as when she is pregnant—it’s well known liaisons can be made without the… inconvenience… of an unexpected ‘souvenir.’”

“Guarov, that is enough!” Lord Acton rose to his feet, leaning heavily on the table for support. “I came to this table reluctantly, and only because I feared you might make a spectacle like this. By the Lady! Stand down and let this pass.”

“What do you propose, Guarov? She carries the heir to the throne. Would you hang her—

ere the king returns from battle? Pray, what is the hurry? ’Tis not the first time the court has feasted on vicious talk—nor the last, I’m sure.” Lady Casset’s fine-boned fingers twitched as she spoke, and the carefully studied expression of indifference betrayed a hint of disdain, as if she

condescended to speak to one below her station. Everything about her spoke of old aristocracy, from her speech to the antique and expensive jewelry on her porcelain-white throat.

“Nothing so drastic, m’lady.” The speaker was Dame Nuray. Kiara regarded her closely.

Nuray was old enough to have been a friend of Bricen’s first wife, Eldra, a Trevath princess and mother to Jared. Even in her short time in Margolan, Kiara had heard it said that few without Trevath ties tolerated Eldra’s black moods and vicious tempers. “Hang the bard, if you have certain proof. And to prevent another ‘forcing,’ double m’lady’s guards—for her own protection.”

“I will not be party to this.” Lord Dravan slammed his palm down on the table. His voice shook with anger. “I brokered Bard Carroway’s fostering here, when he was just a lad.

Many’s the hunt I shared with Lord Carroway and King Bricen in days long gone.” He fixed Guarov with an angry glare. “And I remember Bricen’s rage when Lady Nadine badly used the boy and drove him to desperation. If this is your revenge, Guarov, I will have none of it.”

“Shall we put it to vote then?” Guarov said smoothly. “Those who believe we should take action to preserve the purity of the crown, please vote.” Dame Nuray and Count Suphie added their raised hands to Guarov’s vote. Kiara held her breath. Three for, three against.

“In the event of a tied vote on such a matter, I am empowered to appoint a proxy for our missing member,” said Guarov.

“None is needed.” Alle stepped forward from where she watched the proceedings. She withdrew the parchment from Eadoin. “This arrived today, by courier, from Lady Eadoin. I’m her brother’s child, and at his death, became her ward and only heir.” She handed the paper to Acton, not to Guarov, who examined it and showed it first to Dravan and Lady Casset.

Acton presented it to Guarov, at a distance that enabled the angry lord to read its message but not touch the parchment itself.

“Why was I not informed?” Guarov raged.

“Because Lady Eadoin did not feel obliged to inform you,” Alle replied smoothly. Kiara glanced at Alle. During the revolution Alle might have passed herself off as a barmaid, but here in the Council Chamber, her true pedigree showed clearly. “I assure you, fever-stricken though she is, Eadoin will be here by carriage within a candlemark for such a vote if you don’t accept my proxy. And when she’s done voting, she’s likely to have choice words for those who disturbed her sickbed.”

Acton’s tightly pressed lips seemed to suppress a snicker. A glint of approval glinted in Lady Casset’s eyes. Dravan did not make an effort to hide his pleasure. “Mother and Childe, she has you, Guarov. Eadoin’s likely to do just that—and enjoy seeing you come down with the pox for good measure. Put an end to this sham. The vote supports the queen.”

“One moment.” Dame Nuray raised a hand. “I can’t see harm in maintaining the bard’s banishment. Deserved or not,” she added acidly, “his reputation casts dangerous shadows on the queen at court. I’m told he rests comfortably at the Dragon’s Rage Inn. Leave him there until the king returns—and see if the king’s friendship is as… tolerant… as this council.”

“By the Crone’s tits,” Acton grumbled. “You could damn the Lady herself with the accusations between your words. Yes, for his own protection, leave the bard under arrest. It will protect him from the likes of you.”

Acton turned toward Kiara and gave a deep bow. “My queen. Please accept my personal apologies at this embarrassment. As I pledged once to Bricen and then to King Martris, you have my sword and my allegiance.”

Kiara inclined her head in acceptance, and grasped Acton’s gnarled hand in both of hers.

“Accepted, m’lord, with gratitude.”

Kiara and Alle turned to leave as Crevan stood out of the way. “Guards,” Lord Guarov called, “Please see the queen to her quarters—for her own safety,” he said when Kiara’s sharp glance questioned his intent.

They began to make their way through the narrow halls of Shekerishet. The four guards closed ranks around Kiara and Alle, crowding through the empty walkway. Ahead, servant’s stairs opened into the wall. As they reached the opening, the guard to Kiara’s right threw his full weight against her, knocking Kiara off balance and into the stairwell. Arms flailing, Kiara began to fall backward. She slammed hard against the wall, grasping for a handhold. She tumbled once, crying out in pain.

“Death to traitors!” the guard shouted, starting after her. The other guards grabbed for the man as Alle’s hand flicked in her skirt. A red stain spread across the astonished guard’s face from the knife buried hilt-deep in his chest.

Before Alle could reach the entrance to the stairway, the corridor around Kiara began to glow eerily. Dim shapes appeared in the shadows of the stairwell, breaking her fall and steadying her down the last few steps to the landing. In the glowing mist, Kiara glimpsed the ghostly protectors—Comar Hassad, Ula the nursemaid, and Seanna. Ula and Seanna gentled Kiara to sit

as Comar Hassad’s spirit raised his ghostly sword in warning, watching the stairs. Alle clamored down the stairs, paying no heed to the frantic shouts from the corridor.

“Kiara! Are you all right?” Alle reached Kiara first, noting with concern the growing bruise on her temple where she had slammed against the rock wall on one side of the stairwell.

Cerise reached them a moment later. “Your aim is good, Alle. The guard is dead—saved him from hanging, although now we won’t know who sent him.”

Alle snorted. “Do you need to ask? Want to bet he was Guarov’s insurance?”

Sounds of a heated argument came from the hallway above. Kiara could dimly make out Lord Dravan’s angry voice, shouting down Guarov and Dame Nuray. Any comment was preempted by a sharp pain in her belly that made her double up. She grabbed for Cerise’s hand, alarmed.

Cerise’s concern showed in her eyes. “We need to get you up the stairs and back to your rooms,” she said, laying a hand on Kiara’s belly to ease the sudden contractions. Slowly, the three women made it up the stairs where Ammond and Hothan waited, weapons drawn.

Crevan was doing his best to lead the arguing nobles away from the area, but by the sound of the shouts that reached them, Dravan and Acton were intent on blaming Guarov for the incident and disinclined to move from where they were until the matter was settled.

The voices stilled as the three women emerged from the stairwell and Kiara stumbled, leaning heavily on Cerise and Alle. Hothan reached Kiara as she slumped, and the last things she remembered were Lady Casset’s scream and Hothan catching her just before she hit the floor.

* * *

“The contractions have stopped,” Cerise said, patting Kiara’s hand in response to her worried expression. “A bit of vettor root under your tongue took care of that. The gash on your forehead is healed, although some of the deep bruising from your fall may be sore for a while. From the bruises, I’d guess you rolled into a ball when you fell, which means the baby was well protected, although at your expense.”

Alle helped Kiara sit and propped pillows behind her, handing her a warm cup of tea.

“Thank you,” she said to Alle. “I wasn’t sure how that damned Council meeting would end.”

Alle gave a tired smile. “I suspect Aunt Eadoin got wind of Guarov’s plans. Who knows—

perhaps he’s the one who sent the linens, and the fever along with them. I’ve heard of people catching pox from blankets. I wouldn’t put it past him.”

“I pray to the Lady that Eadoin gets well,” Cerise said, checking Kiara’s bruised cheek again. “But her illness keeps us from taking Kiara somewhere easier to guard than Shekerishet. It’s quite clear that we can’t keep her safe here.”

Jae left his place by the hearth to waddle over toward the bed and gave a quick flap of his leathery wings to land on the foot of it. Satisfied, he curled up at her feet. Tris’s dogs padded over as well, and the gray wolfhound nudged at her hand, insisting to be petted, while the other two lay down on either side of the bed.

“What about the lodge?” Kiara asked. “Tris took me there after the wedding. It’s not fancy, but it was built for winter hunts, so it’s warm enough. Crevan kept it well provisioned, and it’s large enough for us all to stay. There’s a guardhouse, so Ammond and Hothan can still watch over us. After today, they’re the only ones I’d trust.”

“We’re not going anywhere until tomorrow,” Cerise said firmly. “I want to make sure that you’re all right. And riding there on horseback is out of the question for you. Even a carriage ride could be too rough—I don’t like moving you.”

Kiara squeezed Cerise’s hand. “I’m tougher than I look. I feel much better. And if the pains are brought on by worry, then it should be better moving me away from Shekerishet, at least for a little while.”

“We can send for a sleigh,” Alle suggested. “And a sledge for our provisions. The dogs and Jae can come with us. Kiara’s right—the lodge is smaller, and there will be fewer people to worry about. I’ll choose the servants myself that go with us—two or three should suffice, so long as one of them is a good cook!”

“If we can move you without danger, then I’m all for putting some distance between us and Shekerishet, at least for a while,” Cerise relented.

“I’ll go find Crevan and start the preparations,” Alle said, standing up and smoothing her skirts. “We’ll keep it as quiet as we can, and perhaps we’ll throw the troublemakers off the scent.”

“I saw the look on Crevan’s face when you pegged the guard who shoved Kiara,” Cerise observed wryly. “You may want to approach him with both hands in view, so as not to make his

heart fail!”

“I know you’ll have to make some preparations,” Kiara said, looking pointedly at Macaria.