Kingslayer (18 page)

Despite the fact that only sheer willpower kept Sego upright and moving, the man looked flabbergasted at the order. “General! I assure you that is not—”

“Sego.” He clapped a hand on the man’s shoulder and leaned forward a little to meet the man’s eyes square on. “I’ve told you this once. I do not break the men that work so hard for my sake. Shaa would forsake me on the spot if I did such a callous thing. For once, see to yourself before you see to me, alright?”

His mouth moved, as if he wanted to retort, only he couldn’t think of the right words. As Darius’s steward, he couldn’t disobey a direct order either, although he clearly wanted to.

Pretending not to see the other man’s confusion or hesitation, he just smiled, eyes crinkling, and moved on. Giving a pointed nod to Bohme, he silently urged the bodyguard to get moving. Bohme, a little resigned, nodded back just as seriously.

Good. Now, with that taken care of, he could put the poor runner out of his misery. Pivoting on his heel, he retreated back the way he had come. “Lead the way.”

As they left the burning heat of the sun for the relative coolness of the indoors, Darius tried to take a surreptitious sniff of himself. How badly did he smell? After almost two weeks of being on a campaign with no way to bathe, his body odor must be atrocious, but his own nose had shut down in self-defense days ago. He couldn’t tell anymore. He normally believed in presenting only his best appearance at court (the wolves would likely descend on him otherwise) but this time the matter was out of his hands. Well, hopefully they would be so delighted with his victory that they would overlook his appearance.

He sighed internally.
I give the possibility of that happening a near zero.

Before leaving, he’d had little opportunity to explore the palace and this section belonged in the unknown category. So the quick twists and turns meant nothing to him as his guide quickly exchanged one white hallway with another, seemingly identical, one. Giving up halfway on figuring out where they were, he focused instead on the people that they passed. With his foreign features, practically everyone knew who he was at first sight, and the dirty uniform just confirmed what they already knew. They first looked a little surprised to see him, but they bowed politely as he passed. He acknowledged them as best he could but kept an ear open to what they whispered to each other as he walked on.

“—So different than I imagined—”

“—Apparently just arrived, judging by all of that dirt—”

“—Can’t believe he actually drove them off in seven days! Really, what were our own generals doing—”

The words varied a little here and there, but the meaning didn’t. Hmmm. So
that’s
what the palace staff thought. Good to know.

The runner took another abrupt right turn before stopping dead in front of a door guarded by two palace guardsmen. “General Darius Bresalier to see the queen.”

One of the guards nodded to him in dual acknowledgement and dismissal. The runner took off in a quick lope, never glancing back. The other guard opened the door and stepped in long enough to announce in a clear, strong voice, “General Darius Bresalier to see you, My Queen.” 

Once again, the meeting took place in a room that he had not previously known existed. Unlike the throne room, or the quiet retreat, this room had clearly been designed as a study. Each wall had a floor-to-ceiling bookshelf built in that had parchment rolls, books, and knickknacks crammed in. Instead of a desk of some sort, a single long table dominated the center of the room with chairs all around it. The queen had been buried in reports at the head of the table, but at his entrance she popped up and quickly crossed to him, skirts flying about her ankles, eyes alight.

“Darius.”

It had been years since anyone had been so obviously delighted to see him. In spite of himself, he grinned at her. “My Queen.”

“I can’t believe you actually
did it!”

Not insulted in the slightest, he choked on a laugh. “But you approved the plan!”

“Oh, it sounded logical and well laid out,” she assured him. “But I still thought you were crazy for proposing it. We’ve been fighting Brindisi for years and you sent them running in
seven days
. No one thought you’d succeed!”

“Their current general is an idiot, otherwise I might not have,” honesty forced him to admit.

“Then the gods have blessed us twice over.” She waved him to a chair and gestured absently for the door to be closed.

Darius hesitated before actually sitting down. The merchant’s son in him knew full well what those silk-covered chairs cost. And he really didn’t like the idea of sitting in one and ruining it. “My Queen, surely you’d prefer if I bathed first?”

“Oh, sit,” she ordered impatiently. “I’ve been waiting to hear a first account for days, I’m not waiting another minute.”

Hiding a wince, he obediently sat, sending silent apologies to whichever maid would clean this room later.

Delighted to have him cornered, Queen Tresea proceeded to pump him for every last detail. He didn’t know how much time passed, but the shadows on the floor shortened steadily as he spoke and gradually, his throat became parched from speaking so much.

Finally content, she sat back in her chair with a satisfied sigh, like a glutton that had just finished off a magnificent feast. “A wonderful accounting, my General. Thank you. I grant you a day of rest on the morrow before asking that you continue your work.”

He bowed his head in acceptance. “Thank you, My Queen.”

She gave him a dimpled smile. “Now, for the other reason that I called you here.”

Other reason? Darius looked at her cautiously. That glint in her eye disturbed him. Just what had she been scheming while he wasn’t here to keep an eye on her?

“I knew that you would succeed,” she told him confidently. “I doubted your timeline—seven days seemed ludicrous—but I had no doubt that you would, in one way or another, succeed. So I prepared a suitable reward for you.”

Erk. There it was again! That glint that spoke of trouble. Darius didn’t know what ulterior motives she had behind this
suitable reward
of hers, but he did know that he wanted no part of it.

“My Queen,” he interjected hastily before the idea became permanently lodged in her head, “is that not perhaps a tad premature? Shouldn’t a reward come to me after I’ve won this war completely?”

She froze in surprise. Well, the reaction was understandable. Not many people would turn down a reward from their monarch. “You don’t want it?”

“I did not say that,” he assured her carefully. “But I do worry about the consequences of rewarding me with anything right now. I am, after all, a pariah within this court. Winning the battle has only won me a begrudging acceptance and little more. If I am to stand any chance of winning your retainers over, then I cannot seem as if I am using your good will to my advantage.”

She opened her mouth in an instinctive protest and froze without making a sound. Several emotions flashed across her face, ranging from indignation to startled realization, before her shoulders slumped slightly. “But I
want
to reward you!” she almost wailed, a pretty pout forming. “I have a very beautiful estate in mind.”

“And when the time is right, I will accept it with heartfelt thanks,” he soothed. Phew! Got out of that one.

“But I
have
to reward you somehow,” she protested, the pout becoming more noticeable. “It will look strange if I don’t!”

Well, she had a point. Darius racked his brains to think of something suitable that wouldn’t cost a prince’s ransom. “Perhaps you can have an insignia or crest made up for me?”

“I was going to do that anyway. It’s necessary with your rank.”

…Right. Obviously that idea didn’t pass. His mind raced as he tried to think of an alternative. “Perhaps you can have a customized sword made for me with that crest on it?”

She paused, lifting a hand thoughtfully to her lips. “I…rather like that. It has good symbolism to it, as well.”

“As it happens, I had a sword ordered before I left.” He didn’t know if he should mention this or not, but… “It’s surely done by now. If you sent the order to have it engraved for me, it would be done quickly. You can present it formally to me in a matter of days.”

Her lips tightened in displeasure and her eyes clearly said she didn’t quite like his idea
that
much and thought hers better. But she gave a resigned shrug. “Oh, very well. You have a valid point, much as I hate to agree. But
next
time, I’m giving you a suitable reward and you will
not
debate the matter.”

Darius silently promised himself that he would give a suitable offering to Shaa later in thanks for giving him the words he needed just now. He didn’t think he’d come up with that logical explanation without a little divine guidance. He wasn’t that clever. “Of course, My Queen,” he humbly responded with a half-bow.

“Very well. You may go, but I want you at dinner.”

Relieved, he escaped as quickly as he could, even if it meant sacrificing a little dignity to do it.

Darius turned in a slow circle. White walls, white tiles, open windows…the scene remained the same no matter where he looked. Only the random vases of flowers or statuary offered any variance. That odd looking statue of a man holding a vase of pouring water looked vaguely familiar, actually. Which meant he’d already been this way at least once before.

Curses
.

He blew out a breath and scrubbed at the back of his hair in a gesture of sheer frustration. This place made
no
sense. Who’d planned the layout of the palace, anyway, a drunken monkey? Darius had a pretty good sense of direction and he normally didn’t need to be shown a route more than once to have it in his head, but this place had completely defeated him. He’d been wandering for Shaa knew how long, and he
still
hadn’t blundered into an area that he already knew. Who’s bright idea was it that he should explore this place alone?

Oh, right. It was his.

“Sego and Bohme are going to laugh themselves hoarse over this,” he muttered to himself. Well, perhaps not Sego. But Bohme certainly would.

Early that morning, he’d gotten up and eaten a quick breakfast before exploring the palace. With no immediate duties and an official day off granted by his queen, it’d seemed like a prudent idea to take advantage of the opportunity while he had it. But he’d quickly gotten lost and had been wandering around aimlessly, not finding anyone or anything familiar. Judging by the petulant rumbling of his stomach, he’d been at this for several hours already. But he didn’t know if it’d been long enough for anyone to start even worrying about him, much less launching a search party. Bohme had gone to sleep right after breakfast, like he normally did. Sego’s leg had been strained so badly that the healer had ordered him to keep it elevated and cool for the rest of the day, so he wasn’t even aware of Darius’s plans.

I’ve traveled the width and breadth of the Brindisi Sovran and can plan complicated battle tactics in my head, but I get lost in a single building. If this keeps up, I’ll end up cursing not only the drunk monkey that built this place, but the dogs that bred him!
He mentally debated which would be worse: a few moments of humility or slowly starving to death, wandering the halls like some demented ghost. It was a close call.

Alright. As humiliating as this would prove to be, he’d have to find someone that would either guide him out or give him directions. Otherwise he’d likely
still
be lost next week.

Stopping in the middle of the hallway, he closed his eyes and listened hard for any hint of people. It was faint, but he did hear someone speaking.
There
, up ahead and a little to the right. It sounded like two women speaking to each other. The words were unintelligible, but the tone was light and clear.

He headed for it, trying to keep his own footsteps light instead of letting his boots ring against the tile. Hearing their voices remained difficult even with his attempt to move silently until he reached a crossing hallway. Then they abruptly became louder. It seemed like they were just past an open archway. From here he could see glimpses of small trees and potted flowers. One of the interior gardens?

Or did this garden belong to a suite of rooms like the one that attached to his? He might be wandering about in the more residential side of the palace unknowingly. Actually, that would be just his luck, to blunder into a private garden and startle two rajas that would bring their husbands’ wrath down on his head later. Mentally readying an apology, he braved the open garden.

At first he couldn’t see much because the sun shone directly on the garden, and coming from the dimmer interior, his eyes had to adjust. But he heard the two voices coming from his left and turned to see who it might be. After several blinks, the light stopped blinding him and he saw it truly was just the two women. One had to be his senior by a good twenty years because of the grey strands in her dark hair, and the wrinkles around her eyes. She wore the simple and dark dress of a companion or head maid.