Fire And Ice (Book 1) (42 page)

             
A cloud passed in front of the sun, casting a shadow over the host before him.  He thought it had to be a good omen.

              Katelyn stepped away from the windows in the council room.  She caught sight of the tapestry on the wall opposite where her father sat at the head of the long table.  It depicted the battle where Soros defeated the invaders a thousand years ago.  It showed Summerhall’s first king in the midst of battle.  He sat on a white horse with a banner flowing out behind him white and gold.  Of course it was the banner of the Sundarrions back then, since Summerhall had yet to be founded.  Soros and his armored knights fought men in strange armor of their own. 

             
She wondered why her father had it put there.  Maybe it was a reminder of things to come.  That brought the unwanted subject of the afternoon to mind.  Grendin, Westland, and Taragon were increasing the size of their armies, but they still had no idea what was going to happen.  All they had were rumors and the closing of ports to substantiate the possibility of invasion.  Even those who did believe, thought it was limited to the Karands, despite reports that Northern ships were engaging foreign vessels.  It was frustrating.  They had no proof.  Only Gelarus’s knowledge of Elthzidor confirmed the North’s reports. 

             
She wished that Devon was back.  He was still at Anders helping his father and promised to be back as soon as he could.  Rob was gone as well.  He had returned to Westland for a couple of weeks to keep track of any updates there.  He should be back soon too.  It did give her more time with her sister, who was more level headed when away from her prince. 

             
They both worried over their father who was slowly yet inexorably getting worse.  Even Gelarus was starting to take an interest, it had become so noticeable.  So far he had found nothing beyond stress as a cause, but he told them it was too early to rule out anything else.  

             
Katelyn herself believed it was more than just stress.  She thought that the guilt over Coran was taking its toll on him.

             
Because Stemis was noticeably weaker, some of the meetings he usually conducted were passed on to her.  She had to be the one to meet with the dignitaries from the other kingdoms.  The Voltian official was so offended that he would not be speaking with the King personally that he walked out on her.  When he was politely informed that it would be her or no one, he reluctantly agreed to another meeting where she made him wait for two hours outside the room before admitting him, to teach the man some manners.  She also had to meet with representatives from some of Summerhall’s concerned traders.  All she could tell them was that the King was looking into the problem and hoped that they could all work together until everything was resolved.  She became very grateful for all the lessons in diplomacy she had been forced to endure over the years. 

             
She glanced to where her father sat looking over a map of the Western world.  With little new information coming in he was still working on his latest obsession.  The question he was trying to answer was why the Karands had taken control of the narrows near Crecy.  Not just the city which they had held for some time but why they stationed several ships to help protect the city.  The only answer they had come up with was that it helped to curtail the movements of the speedy Northern ships that plagued their coast.  The problem with that answer was that holding the narrows didn’t really stop anything.  The Northmen were still raiding the coastal towns of Daes Shael.

             
She went back to staring out the window while she waited for Martin and Loras to arrive for their scheduled meeting. 

              Treska stopped short of the heavy iron gates that stood partially open.  Four men wearing the golden sun on blue over their mail flanked the gates in rigid stances.  Gloved hands held long pikes at exact angles as four sets of keen eyes kept watch for any kind of danger. 

             
One of the reasons he had agreed to deliver the letters personally was a desire to see the King of Summerhall close up; He and the Princess Katelyn.  It was not that he hadn’t seen them before but it was always from a distance.  It was an opportunity he couldn’t pass up.  Standing before the gates and seeing the imposing white stones of the palace he had to remind himself of that fact.  To actually enter the palace was daunting.  He started to doubt if the man who had given him the letters was really Lord Coran.  What might they do to him if he wasn’t?  Would the guards even believe him?

             
If he had just made it home sooner.  An easy two week cruise turned into a month when he encountered a storm in the sea of Calimus.  It came right out of nowhere and ripped his main sail down the middle.  He had to hold up in Nirone until it was repaired.  He hoped the delay wouldn’t be a problem considering what he was carrying. 

             
Of course, it was the extra two weeks stuck in some port that gave him time for the doubts to creep in.  He had given his word, however, and that decided the matter as far as he was concerned.  Squaring his shoulders he took a step towards the gate, then a second. 

             
One of the guards came forward to block his way.  He was clean shaven and serious, very professional.  “Your name, sir?”

             
“Treska.  Captain Treska,” he replied, feeling sweat start on his face.

             
“Your business, Captain.”  The guard was professional and very polite. 

             
“I have messages for the King,” he stated feeling a little more sure with the guard’s kind attitude.  “And one for Her Highness, the Princess Katelyn,” he added quickly.

             
The guard looked him over so fast that he wasn’t sure it had happened.  “If you will come with me.”  It was not exactly a request.  Treska doubted that they would let him go about the palace without someone to watch him.

             
He followed the man inside the gates and across the wide, paved courtyard.  A few men in blue livery were saddling some horses, forcing Treska and his escort to go around them.  Up the steps they went into the vaulted entry hall.  He would have been tempted to stop and stare if he wasn’t matched step for step by the serious guardsman at his side.  They passed servants in the halls as well as well-dressed, palace functionaries.  One man wearing a combination of green and bright yellow that made him cringe eyed him curiously as he passed.  Maybe thinking he was in some sort of trouble being escorted by a guard.  Treska wasn’t so sure he was not in trouble. 

             
The guard stopped and Treska with him before another stiff-standing guard.  This one was a little older, but had the same serious and clean-shaven face.

             
“Captain Treska here says he has messages for the King and his daughter,” his escort reported.

             
The new man glanced over Treska with piercing eyes.  He felt like he had just been weighed and judged.  “You can leave them with me, Captain.  I will see that they are delivered.”              

             
Here it was.  He had been expecting this and had rehearsed what he would say.  “I was asked to hand them over personally.  I gave my word.”  He added the last part for the man’s disapproving frown.

             
The guard eyed him again.  “Wait here.”  He went to a door a few feet down the hall, opened it and stepped inside.  Another guard stood beside that door too.

             
Treska tried to keep himself calm as he waited, even as his stomach churned in anticipation of what might happen next.  If he was allowed inside then he would have to talk to the King himself.  He reminded himself that he was a loyal man of Summerhall and had nothing to fear.  The King was known as a just man and a man who upheld justice for others.

             
The guard came back out and gestured for him to enter. 

             
Just outside the door the guard halted him with an outstretched hand and reached down to take the plain dagger from his belt.  “Just a precaution Captain.  I hope you can understand our concerns for safety.”

             
“Of course, good sir,” Treska agreed quickly.  He wasn’t about to make a fuss.

             
The guard gestured to the door with one arm.  Treska took a deep breath and entered the room.  The guard did not leave, but let the door close behind the both of them. 

             
Treska took a look around the room.  Windows were set in the opposite wall, white puffy clouds floating on the wind could be seen beyond the glass panes.  A tapestry hanging at one end of the room caught his eye as well.  It showed a scene from some battle.  He thought the tall man on the horse was supposed to be Soros.  The man fought strange men in scaled armor and bodies littered the ground around them.  With a trader’s eye he could tell it was locally made and very old.  Unconsciously he calculated what it would be worth.  Quite a lot.  Pulling his eyes away he ran them over the long, dark stained table that dominated the room.  There were enough chairs for at least a dozen people, but it was the two who sat at the far end that grabbed all of his attention. 

             
The man at the head of the table had short cut, brown hair just barely touched with gray at the temples.  His face was gaunt, like it was normally fuller.  He appeared tired, but his eyes were still sharp as they stared at him.  He wore a rich red coat with gold on the sleeves.  Treska thought that he should be more inspiring.  Maybe he was ill or something. 

             
If the High King of Summerhall lacked for any sense of presence, then it was more than made up for in the beautiful young lady who sat in the chair to his right.  The straps of her light blue dress hung low off the shoulder to allow her midnight dark hair to contrast with her pale shoulders.  Her face was slightly narrow and her lips full.  Her dark blue eyes were mesmerizing.  He could see the intelligence behind them.  She sat with her back straight and her head high.  If there was a definition of awe inspiring she was it.  He realized his mouth was hanging open and closed it quickly.  Remembering where he was he bowed low.

             
“I understand that you have some messages for us,” the King said in a tired voice.  “And that you were instructed to give them to us and no one else.  Is that correct, Captain?”

             
“Yes, Your Majesty,” Treska replied and fumbled with the papers he carried.  He stretched out his hand and took a step forward, but the guard’s hand on his arm stopped him.  Treska had forgotten the man was there.

             
“Forgive me, Captain, if I am ...overcautious,” Stemis told him.

             
“No need to apologize, Your Majesty.”

             
“I am curious as to who would give such instructions to someone I am not familiar with.”

             
Treska licked his lips.  “He said it was real important, and I don’t think there was anyone else.  He put his trust in me.”              

             
The King frowned, “Who is this ‘he’?”

             
Treska prepared himself for the response that was to come.  “He said his name was Coran Tyelin.”

             
The result was not unexpected.  Stemis’s face went white and the Princess’ showed surprise, but maybe not as much as it should have.

             
“I told you, Father...”  Katelyn began, but the King held up a hand to silence her.

             
King Stemis visibly took hold of himself.  “You must be mistaken, or maybe you were duped, Captain.  Coran is dead.”

             
“I know, Your Majesty, but I believed him.  He said the letters contained the information you sent him to get.”

             
The King was more thoughtful, but he still didn’t believe.  “I do not...”

             
This time it was his daughter’s turn to interrupt.  “Where was this?  Where was he?” she asked insistently.

             
“Crecy, Your Highness,” he responded quickly.  The King was not looking happy so he decided it was time to say what he had to before things got out of hand.  “He was real surprised when I told him he was dead, so he gave me a personal message for you, Your Highness, so you would know it was really him.”  He waited for her nod to continue.  “He said, ‘The first day of winter.  I always keep my promises’.”

             
The reply was immediate.  “It was him,” the Princess insisted, turning to her father.  “I haven’t told anyone else, but he promised me he would be back by the first day of winter.  That was just before he left.”              

The King appeared troubled by the news.  “Are you sure?” he asked her.  “Even if he did survive the fire in Arencia he could have been captured.  And what if he told someone else about it?  Forced or not?”

              “He would not,” the Princess insisted.  “You know he would not.  Not about something like that.”