Legacy (20 page)

Koranis, resplendent in all his finery, and Alantonya, a more understated match, came to greet us. I glanced around as my parents talked with their hosts, but I could not find Narian. I did not dare ask Koranis and Alantonya his whereabouts, lest the inquiry be considered rude in light of the fact that this occasion was in Semari's honor. Such an inquiry might also have piqued my father's interest.

Miranna and I walked the grounds, ostensibly in search of her best friend, although I continued to sweep the crowd for her older brother. As it turned out, Semari located us and came bounding our way with a large and inviting grin upon her face.

“I'm so glad you could come!” she exclaimed, clutching Miranna's hands. Before my sister could return her greeting, Semari had begun to drag her down the hill toward the place where another round of horseshoe toss was beginning. “You'll never guess who's here!”

I looked toward the group of boys and girls surrounding the area designated for the game and saw among them the young man with reddish-brown hair whom my sister had come to favor. Clinging to his arm was a boy about half his size and age, presumably his brother.

Semari and Miranna joined the group, Miranna smoothing the skirt of her dark green gown in anticipation of talking with Temerson. She attempted unsuccessfully to capture the curly strands of hair that fell across her cheeks, which had escaped the ribbon that gathered her locks at the nape of her neck.

Although I knew Narian did not necessarily appreciate the way Hytanican women adorned themselves, I, too, had taken special care with my appearance this evening. I was attired in a flared deep blue velvet gown with a square-necked white satin stomacher. The shoulders were puffed and slashed, and the sleeves were tightly laced from elbow to wrist, extending over the back of my hands to a point. My dark hair had been swept up off my shoulders and was encircled by a delicate tiara consisting of two parallel silver bands set with alternating sapphires and diamonds.

I had not gone with Semari and Miranna, as I knew their chatter would center on the male species, a subject I did not want to discuss. Looking back toward the house, I saw that Cannan and Faramay had arrived and were approaching my parents, having elected to forgo the games just as we had. I had already determined that the man I reviled was not on the grounds, and his absence from his parents' side gave me reason to believe he had chosen not to attend.

Most of the guests had gathered at the bottom of the hill, and I went to join them, my parents and their friends following soon after. I did not spend much time greeting those around me, for I wanted to find Narian. As I scanned the area, I saw Cannan break away from my father and mother and, leaving Faramay behind, begin to walk in my direction. Confused as to what he could want with me, I glanced over my shoulder and realized he had made eye contact with Destari, who stood about ten feet away.

Destari did not move as his captain arrived. Judging from their serious demeanor and hushed tones, the issue about which they spoke was of some importance. Even though they were not far from me, the incessant prattle of the people in the area made it difficult to distinguish a single word, regardless of how hard I strained my ears.

Their conversation complete, Destari and Cannan walked toward the edge of the forest. While I had not expected my bodyguard to stay at my side all evening, given the vast number of guards who had accompanied my parents and were now scattered about the estate, the reason for his departure seemed official and therefore worth knowing. My curiosity burning, I determined to find out where Cannan was going and what was so important that he needed to have Destari accompany him.

I FOLLOWED DESTARI AND CANNAN TOWARD the tree line as furtively as I could, weaving my way through the guests. Though they walked purposefully, I was unsure of their destination until I noticed Narian, dressed once more in dark colors, leaning against the trunk of a large maple tree. Narian had an uncanny ability to hide in plain sight and thus pass undetected by almost everyone, including me, but apparently not by the Captain of the Guard. The sixteen-year-old was indifferently observing the celebratory activities, but shifted his gaze to Destari and Cannan the moment they began to approach him, as though he had been monitoring their movements.

I could see no harm in what Narian was doing and did not understand why Cannan would want to meet with him. I found myself worried for the young man's sake, but he moved away from the forest's edge and toward the two soldiers, no sign of misgiving in his stride. This time, as I inched closer so that I was on the fringe of the crowd, I was able to overhear their discussion.

“I have been informed that you have quite a talent for acquiring weapons,” Cannan stated. “I hear you are never without one. So, tell me, are you now armed?”

“I am,” Narian replied without hesitation.

The captain inclined his head in appreciation of receiving an answer as straightforward as his query, then his eyes flicked toward Narian's hip, where he would have held a sword or dagger, finally moving down to check his boots.

“I see no weapons,” the captain pronounced, with a measure of disbelief that sprang from the fact that his own men had disarmed Narian when he had been taken prisoner. Still, it could not be denied that the young man had managed to acquire a weapon on at least three occasions.

“I have them,” Narian repeated.

“Is there a problem, gentlemen?” interrupted a self-important voice I recognized as belonging to Koranis. The Baron was panting lightly, his thinning blond hair dampened with perspiration, as he hurried over to the two men confronting Narian.

“Are you aware that your son has been impermissibly obtaining weapons?” Cannan asked, without taking his eyes off the boy standing before him.

“Surely you overstate the situation,” Koranis blustered. “As you well know, he took a dagger off my person several weeks ago and was duly punished. There have been no other such instances.”

Cannan gave a small shake of his head and Koranis rounded on his son.

“What weapons are these? Where have you been getting them?”

Narian shrugged, unruffled. “Some are my own. Others are yours.”

Koranis's affronted frown deepened and he looked from Destari to Cannan as if trying to assess their reactions.

“That's impossible,” he sputtered, evidently concluding that he needed to defend himself. “I keep all my weapons in a locked trunk in my bedroom.”

“Perhaps you need better locks,” Narian responded with not-so-subtle disrespect.

“This is absurd!” Koranis's face turned a shade close to maroon. I guessed he was insulted by the fact that Cannan and Destari did not doubt the young man.

Narian ignored the Baron, presumably deeming his father no longer worthy of his time, and addressed Cannan, his tone disdainful.

“You can hardly expect the rabbit to keep up with the fox.”

Koranis let out a breath, too appalled by his son's audacity to formulate a response. Fortunately for everyone involved, the Baron did not see Cannan's nod toward Narian that indicated he understood his point.

“We will be requiring a location away from your guests,” the captain informed Koranis. “Narian was about to show us the weapons he carries.”

Narian's eyebrows lifted, as if he were trying to recall when he had so agreed, but he did not protest.

The Baron huffed a few times, unaccustomed to taking orders while on his own property and irked that Cannan had not referred to his son as Kyenn. But he chose not to make his complaints known.

“We can go around to the front of the house,” he indicated with some measure of grace, and began to lead the way.

Cannan, Destari and Narian followed, while I trailed a fair distance behind, praying I would not be discovered. The four
men reached the top of the hill and I allowed a few minutes to pass before pursuing them, knowing that once I left behind the bantering guests, my movements would be easier to detect. When I felt relatively safe, I sidled up to the side of the house and peered around the corner to look into the front yard.

“Any weapons you may have in the home are of interest to me as well,” the captain was saying. “Go and retrieve them.”

Narian stood a few feet in front of the others, facing them. “None of my own weapons are in the house. I could, however, retrieve Koranis's for you.”

“That won't be necessary,” Cannan said, ignoring once more the disrespect for his father in the young man's voice. “Well?” he prompted.

“It would be best to demonstrate my weaponry,” Narian stated. “I need a target.”

Cannan motioned to an oak tree thirty or so feet from where I was hiding. As the group of men moved toward it, I jerked back to avoid being seen, but to my mortification, did not move fast enough.

“Princess, you may as well come out,” Destari called, and my heart began to pound as I anticipated how irate Cannan would be with me.

I stepped out, knowing there was no use in pretending that my presence by the house had been a coincidence, and approached the men, my eyes on the Captain of the Guard, trying to gauge his reaction. To my relief, he turned away without a word, and it occurred to me that he saw no point in issuing an order for me to leave, as he could not ensure I would obey without assigning Destari as my escort.

I stood beside my bodyguard, the house to our backs and the tree on the right, roughly twenty feet away. Narian watched
Cannan for an indication he should commence the demonstration, displaying no particular reaction to my arrival. At the captain's nod, he reached into the pouch hanging from his belt and secured a small handful of powder, which he threw to the ground before us.

The flash was blinding. My hands flew to my face as I stumbled backward, and I would have fallen had Destari not seized me and pulled me into the protection of his arms. As I squinted through my fingers at the thick swirling smoke, I began to feel dizzy. The scent of the substance threatened to choke me, though it did not taste or smell exactly like smoke. It was sweeter, and with every breath, my eyes grew more unfocused.

The haze finally began to clear, but my mind remained clouded for a few moments longer. When I could think coherently again, I saw Koranis shaking his head back and forth and Cannan scanning the area, for Narian had taken advantage of our disoriented state to slip from view. Then we heard a resounding
thunk,
and our heads snapped toward the tree where a knife now protruded at eye level.

Destari loosened his hold on me and we all turned to look at Narian.

“If you want to examine the dagger, I have another,” Narian commented, arresting Cannan in midstride on his walk toward the tree. The young man then knelt down and extracted a second knife from one of his boot heels. Cannan, having reversed direction, held out a hand, and Narian extended the grip of the weapon to him. I watched tensely as the captain checked the blade, which was relatively narrow and only about six inches in length but designed with jagged tines along its edge to tear flesh to shreds. Narian walked to the tree and
jerked the other dagger out, slipping it into his boot heel as he waited for Cannan's reaction.

“So the thicker soles on your boots allow for a hidden sheath for the dagger.”

Choosing to let his actions speak for him, Narian took the second knife from Cannan and returned it to its hiding place.

“And this powder—let me see it,” the captain commanded.

Narian untied the pouch from his belt and passed it to him without objection. Cannan opened it and removed a small amount of powder, rubbing it cautiously between his fingers. The substance sparked, but there was not enough of it in his hand to create the same effect we had just witnessed.

“Is every soldier in Cokyri equipped with similar weaponry?” Cannan inquired, a lift in his eyebrow the only indication that Hytanica's military was not familiar with weapons such as these. “Not everyone.”

The captain waited for Narian to elaborate, but when he did not, handed the pouch to Destari for further examination.

“Other than the weapons we took from you when you were arrested and that are in my possession, have we now seen your arms in their entirety?”

“No,” Narian replied shamelessly.

For the first time, the Captain of the Guard looked as if he had lost his patience. Narian was not being forthcoming, and I knew from personal experience that when Cannan asked something of a person, he expected him to comply and to do so without delay.

“Then show us whatever else you have,” he ordered, his jaw rigid.

Narian held Cannan's eyes for a moment, then reached
toward his belt, lightly brushing the dark stitching with which it was adorned. He pinched the end of one of the stitches between his thumb and forefinger and withdrew a sharp, slender dart. I held my breath, terrified of that tiny needle.

“Poisoned darts,” he explained, holding the barb up for all to see. “If I removed this wax from the tip and pierced your flesh, you would be dead within minutes.”

A look flashed between Cannan and Destari, and I heard Koranis murmur, “God save us.”

“And is there an antidote?” Cannan asked, holding out his hand to take the dart.

Narian shook his head. “The poison affects the body too swiftly for an antidote to be effective.”

“And you wear these next to your own skin?”

“Cokyrian warriors are willing to live dangerously and, if necessary, to die as a result,” he confirmed without emotion.

“I will keep these items for now,” Cannan said, passing the dart to Destari. “I would like our alchemists to examine the substances.”

The Elite Guard wrapped the dart in Narian's soft leather pouch before tucking both into the shaft of his boot. The captain turned on his heel to stride toward the rear of the house, Koranis a pace behind. Stopping abruptly, Cannan once more faced Narian.

“You will report to my office at the palace in two days. Our military would be well served by learning as much as we can from you about Cokyrian weaponry and fighting techniques. I will return all of your weapons to you at that time, including those taken upon your arrest.”

Cannan turned to Koranis in response to the Baron's sharp intake of breath.

“Your son has had the opportunity to kill a number of my guards and your family several times over, not to mention certain members of the royal family. As he has shown no inclination to harm anyone, I believe he can be trusted.”

Koranis, his face drained of color and his blue eyes wide with alarm, unwisely attempted to challenge the Captain of the Guard's decision.

“That is easy for you to say, as he does not live in your house! I want him off my property,
tonight!
”

Cannan glared at Koranis, and I could see a rage building within him that was out of proportion to the stated demand. He stepped toward the Baron, who recoiled until he collided with the side wall of the house. Moving in front of the cowering man, Cannan leaned toward him, supporting himself with one hand upon the wall.

“You are pathetic, an empty imitation of a father,” he spat, glowering down at Koranis with loathing in his voice. “It is extraordinary that Narian is alive, a miracle that he somehow returned to Hytanica. There is no justice in the fact that, of all the grieving fathers in the kingdom whose sons were stolen by the Cokyrians, it is yours who found a way home. You, who would thrust aside this blessing for which the rest of us would kill. You fail to appreciate the gift you have been given.”

Koranis cringed and tried to slide sideways away from the captain, but Cannan grabbed him by his dress coat, almost lifting him off the ground.

“The sight of you sickens me,” he seethed, the controlled quality of his deep voice making him all the more terrifying. “I would give anything for it to have been my son who returned. I would have embraced him regardless of how he had been raised or by whom.”

With that, Cannan released the quaking man and stepped
back from him, although his deadly glare did not abate. It was a testament to the level of fear that gripped Koranis at the thought of Narian's continued residence within his home that he spoke again.

“I have a wife and four younger children to protect,” he blubbered. “I cannot run the risk that you may be wrong.”

When the only discernible reaction Cannan showed to Koranis's statement was a crease in his brow, the Baron straightened. “Take him with you, enroll him in the Military Academy, do whatever you think best. Just keep him away from me and my family.”

Despite his attempt to regain his poise, Koranis was clearly pleading. I inched closer to Destari as concern for the Baron welled within me. I thought it possible from Cannan's threatening posture that he might do the man harm. I glanced skyward in prayerful thanks when the captain, shaking his head in disgust, took another step away, seeming to recognize that he needed to keep Koranis out of his reach.

Gesturing toward Narian, Cannan admonished, “Like it or not, you have an obligation to the boy. If you won't let him live here, then I will move him into your city residence.”

He paused, and when he continued, there was a hint of resignation in his words.

“I know what it is like to have a son who is headstrong, who, like yours, has taken my weapons and horses without permission and who has cost me innumerable sleepless nights. Still, I would not relinquish a single moment of time with him.”

Although he did not make a move toward the Baron, I could once again hear anger rising in Cannan. “You, on the other hand, have not even tried to reach out to your son. I
feel no compassion for you, and have but one regret—that I ever entrusted him to your custody.”