Fey 02 - Changeling (84 page)

"We heard the conversation, Highness," Monte said.
 
He spoke softly, his words barely carrying above the din.

Nicholas took the twisting servants' stairs.
 
He had slid down those in the middle of a battle the day he had first seen Jewel.
 
The stairs were wide enough for two men.
 
Monte, as befit his rank, dropped back.

"Did you?" Nicholas said.
 
The noise of the kitchen was fading away.

"Aye, Sire."
 
Monte sounded chagrined, as if he could apologize for this entire conversation with his tone.
   
"We thought we'd better talk with you before this went too far."

"Did you?" Nicholas kept his voice flat.
 
They were dangerously close to overstepping.
 
He was only allowing this because he felt so alone, because he needed guidance no matter how it came. "You listened in on a private conversation and feel you have the right to comment on it."

They had reached the landing.
 
Stowe slowed his steps, but Nicholas didn't.
 
He pivoted and continued up.
 
"It affects us," Stowe said.

"Everything I do affects you," Nicholas said.
 
"That's the nature of the relationship."

"Yes, sire, but this one is dangerous."

Nicholas stopped one step up so that he could look down on both men.
 
Stowe's face was drawn, and Monte's was tight with fear.
 
They were no more comfortable with this moment than Nicholas was.

He wasn't going to make them any more comfortable, either.

"Tell me now," he said, "and I'll consider what you have to say."

Stowe nodded his head once.
 
"Sire, if the Rocaan dies without the Secrets, we could all die."

"I doubt that.
 
The Fey won't attack at once."

"But when they do we have no recourse," Stowe said.
 
"We lose to them. Rugar would lead us."

"Rugar won't lead us.
 
I have the children."

"Babies," Stowe said, "and, forgive me, Sire, but one is feeble.
 
We cannot wait for them to grow.
 
We won't last two days without holy water."

"You're all afraid for your skins," Nicholas said and started back up the stairs.

"Highness!" Monte's voice was piercing between the stone walls.
 
"Please."

"No," Nicholas said.
 
He continued to climb.
 
No one was on the second floor.
 
The hallway was shrouded in darkness.
 
"I don't think you men understand.
 
I want them to kill him.
 
I'd have killed him myself if I could have."

He stopped at the top of the stairs and took a deep breath.
 
He hated coming this way, but he hated going through the Great Hall even more.
  
Jewel's body was gone, but he still saw it there whenever he closed his eyes.
 
The only memories he had of her at the moment were of her death.

Stowe stopped beside him.
 
"We do understand that, Sire," he said softly.
 
"But that's not in the state's best interest.
 
Forgive me for speaking out of turn, Sire, but you need to consider Blue Isle."

"I am considering Blue Isle," Nicholas said.
 
"I didn't kill him this afternoon."

"Then allow us to protect him."
 
Monte blurted the sentence from behind Nicholas.
 

Nicholas turned.
 
"Protect the man who murdered your Queen?"

"Arrest him then, Sire.
 
But don't let him die," Stowe said.

"Arrest him? And then what?
 
The people will turn against me as clearly if I arrest him as they would if I murdered him myself."

"Not if you say you're going to investigate what happens.
 
Not if you force him to appoint an acting Rocaan."

"It's never been done," Nicholas said.

"There's never been a need," Stowe said.
 
"There is now.
 
The Words don't provide for this nor does Church history.
 
But it could be the first step in you taking over for the Rocaan.
 
You could even bill it as such."

"Then Matthias just plays us like a mouse, toys with us, and never gives us the Secrets.
 
If he knows the Secrets are worth his life, he will keep them until he dies of old age.
 
No."
 
Nicholas walked down the corridor, his boots slapping against the stone.

Monte hurried after him.
 
"Sire, please, then just let us guard him. You said you thought the Fey would strike in the next few days.
 
Let us make certain they don't.
 
Then you can settle this with the Rocaan."

"You aren't understanding me," Nicholas said.
 
"I want him dead."

Stowe caught up to Nicholas and Monte.
 
He turned to Monte.
 
"Leave us," he said.

"But I thought we were to discuss this together."

"So," Nicholas said.
 
"You planned this on the ride back.
 
How charming."

"Highness," Stowe said.
 
"Please.
 
Let me speak to you.
 
Alone."

Nicholas sighed.
 
He would never get rid of them if he didn't have a real discussion.
 
"All right.
 
Leave us, Monte."

Monte nodded, bowed, and hurried back down the stairs toward the kitchen.
 
Nicholas shoved his hands in the pockets of his breeches.
 

"Make this quick," he said to Stowe, "because you're pushing every favor you've got."

Stowe crossed his arms, apparently unwilling to be intimidated.
 
"It's time you listen to me, Highness, not as a king, but as a young man.
 
You've lost everything that's important to you this week, and you're not thinking clearly.
 
If you allow the Fey to kill the Rocaan, that will be the last assassination.
 
We will go to war.
 
And with the Rocaan dead, we will have no chance at winning.
 
None at all."

"The Fey won't attack their own kind," Nicholas said.

"So your children are safe.
 
Fine, but what about all the other children?
 
What about the people you swore to protect."

"I swore in a ceremony run by a false Rocaan."

"You swore before God," Stowe said.

Nicholas clenched his fists.
 
He didn't want to hear this.
 
"You would never speak this way to my father."

"Your father never forgot his obligations."

"Yes, he did," Nicholas said.
 
"He hid in the war room during the Invasion."

"Because if he died, it didn't matter what happened on Blue Isle.
 
You were too young to rule well.
 
The Fey would have won, right there and then."
 
Stowe was speaking so forcefully that his entire body shook.
 
He clearly hadn't slept either, and he was one of Nicholas's father's most favored advisors.
 
Beneath all the bluster, beneath the talk, Stowe was terrified.
 
Nicholas had only seen him terrified once before — when the Fey invaded.

"I can't give in to Matthias," Nicholas said.
 
"I can't allow him to commit murder with impunity.
 
As long as he is Rocaan, I cannot make any agreements with the Fey.
 
I can't bring my children inside a chapel.
 
I cannot be the leader I need to be."

Stowe let out a deep breath and brought one hand to his face.
 
He massaged his temples as if he had a bad headache.

"If I arrest him," Nicholas said, "he won't give up the Secrets.
 
He'll use them as a weapon against us.
 
But if he's afraid enough of the Fey, he might turn those Secrets to someone else."

"He's too afraid of his own Elders," Stowe said.
 
"And I don't think he cares enough about the Tabernacle."

Nicholas shook his head.
 
"That's where you're wrong, milord," he said.
 
"Matthias has always loved the Tabernacle.
 
He loves the history and the importance of it.
 
Until he became Rocaan, he was the voice of reason within that building.
 
Making him Rocaan was wrong.
 
He hasn't the — I don't know — the ability for it.
 
He's not political and he doesn't know how to use his power, and he's terrified that someone will discover he doesn't belong."
 
Nicholas spoke those last words slowly, more to himself than to anyone else.
 
No wonder Matthias guarded everything so closely.
 
It was the only way he had of protecting himself.
 
Perhaps Stowe was right.
 
If Nicholas provided protection, Matthias might give up the Secrets.

The thought made Nicholas's stomach turn.

"If that's true," Stowe said, "then fighting him will only entrench him farther.
 
We have to appear to work with him.
 
Then and only then will he feel secure enough to allow the Secrets out."

Nicholas shook his head.
 
He was actually, physically, queasy.
 
"I can't work with him.
 
I can't help him.
 
He killed Jewel."

"Forgive me, Sire, for lecturing you, but these are the difficulties of your position.
 
You must balance everything.
 
And the fate of the Isle is more important now than what the Rocaan did to Jewel.
 
I am sorry to be so blunt."
 
Stowe was almost bobbing with apology.
 
He clearly knew that he was treading on dangerous ground.
 
But the more he apologized, the more Nicholas listened.
 
"If we tell Matthias that we are guarding him when, in fact, we will be keeping him under house arrest, then he might relax enough to seek help.
 
He was willing to work with you this afternoon."

"I'm sure he won't be now," Nicholas said.

"He actually might," Stowe said.
 
"The man is besieged on all sides.
 
He has no support and, if reports are true, he has no faith to turn to either.
 
You, the Elders, and the Fey are against him.
 
If you embrace him, he will embrace you."

"I can't tell him that he did the right thing."
 
Nicholas turned away.
 
His voice was breaking and his eyes stung.
 
"He didn't."

"I know that, Sire.
 
But we can send a message along with the guards that you have decided to protect him.
 
Promise the conversation later."
 
Stowe put his hand on Nicholas's arm.
 
"Let the lords lie for you.
 
I will.
 
I'll tell him what we need to in order to get him to work with us."

"And then what?" Nicholas said.
 

"Once we have the Secrets, we let the Elders voice their opinions to the people.
 
We let them tell the people he was a false Rocaan who seized an opportunity.
 
We let them appoint a new leader, and then you can punish him, Sire, as you see fit."