Legacy (26 page)

“We will send for him,” Cannan said, making the decision
the King had silently asked of him. His dark eyes were cold and hard, and I realized what a strain it was for those who had fought in the war to keep their words and actions civil.

“My guards will escort you to the Meeting Hall while we await his arrival,” my father said, the need to be hospitable masking his abhorrence for the people before him. He then addressed the sergeant at arms. “Kade, arrange the necessary escort and notify the kitchens to bring refreshment to our visitors.”

Kade quickly implemented my father's orders, and Palace Guards walked in front of and behind the seven Cokyrians, more than doubling their numbers, as they were taken from the Hall of Kings, through the antechamber and on to the Meeting Hall. With the closing of the Throne Room doors, silence again reigned.

The royal family moved into the King's study while Cannan and an Elite Guard went to collect Narian from the guest room on the third floor where he had spent the night. He had been told to keep to his room so that he could be summoned if he were needed and, of perhaps greater import, so that the Cokyrians would not know of his presence within the palace.

Destari, Halias and several of my father's personal guards stood outside the door of the study after we had entered, the rest of the Palace Guards and Elite Guards milling about the Hall of Kings. This room too felt agonizingly cold to me, despite the fire snapping in the hearth, and I sank into an armchair as close to the blaze as I dared. Miranna and my mother sat together on the sofa, holding hands, while my father remained on his feet. Although it was only my family in the study, no one spoke. The hush was broken a few minutes later by a sharp rap on the door, and Cannan entered with Narian.
As had been the case with Steldor, Narian's face showed bruising, but his was at the temple as well as along the jaw.

Narian scanned the room, and I recollected the self-defense lesson in which he had told me to always be aware of my surroundings and to take note of every person present and of every exit. Was such conduct second nature to him? Did he ever relax his vigilance?

“I've informed Narian of the High Priestess's demands,” Cannan reported, closing the door.

My father nodded, then addressed the young man standing respectfully before him.

“Do you wish to speak to her?”

Narian's eyes were steely and he seemed to have detached himself from all emotion.

“No, Your Majesty, I do not.”

“Very well. And of her other demand—do you wish to return to Cokyri?”

Narian's expression did not change, nor did his tone.

“No, I do not.”

“Then it is here you shall stay,” my father decided, clearly under the impression that Narian's detachment was an attempt to conceal the anxiety he was truly feeling. I doubted that Narian was afraid, but his actual emotions were indiscernible even to me.

Cannan escorted Narian from the study, and my father gave word for the delegation from Cokyri to be brought before us once more. The King and Queen returned to their thrones, and Miranna and I likewise took our seats, with our guards behind us. Cannan emerged from his office, where he had taken Narian, and returned to my father's side just as the antechamber doors swung inward.

The High Priestess and her guards entered as they had
before, though this time they were accompanied by Kade and the many Hytanican guards who had been with them in the Meeting Hall. As the Palace Guards resumed their positions on either side of the hall and Kade returned to stand beside my mother, the Cokyrians again approached the dais, the High Priestess halting before my father.

“Narian will not be meeting with you,” the King announced. “Nor will he be returning to Cokyri.”

Sparks danced in the High Priestess's eyes, though the rest of her face remained composed.

“Say what you will, Hytanican King, but Narian must be surrendered into my custody,” she retorted with a clear note of animosity. “You can either release him to us voluntarily, or we will take him by force. I advise you to consider carefully. I will know your answer in the morning.”

She motioned to her six guards, and they departed in formation, their footsteps and the High Priestess's threat echoing in their wake.

After the antechamber doors closed behind the Cokyrians, debate broke out among those assembled in the Throne Room, including the Palace Guards and Elite Guards, as a measure of fear seized everyone. What had she meant by
we will take him by force?
Did the Cokyrians plan to restart the war? Would protecting Narian put the entire kingdom at risk? And most pressing, how should the Hytanicans reply when the High Priestess returned in the morning?

The debate grew strident as suggestions were torn apart and rejected. My father was conferring with both Kade and Cannan, who was the only person in the room who had remained calm.

I was more distraught than ever, and Miranna shot me a glance that told me she felt the same. Narian stepped out of
Cannan's office to observe the commotion, leaning a shoulder against the wall, his countenance uncharacteristically troubled.

“Quiet!”
Cannan bellowed, and everyone was struck eerily dumb. “That's better,” he grumbled, then he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, deep in thought.

A resolute voice disturbed the silence. “We should send for London, sir.”

For a moment, everyone stared at Halias, who stood steadfast, his glistening blue eyes glued to Cannan's face, then all attention shifted to the Captain of the Guard. Cannan glowered at Halias for a long moment, making no effort to suppress the heat in his stare. Finally, he turned to Destari.

“Do you know where London is?”

“Yes, sir, I do.”

“Find him and bring him here. Make sure he understands the situation.”

Destari nodded, then strode from the room through the antechamber doors.

The Throne Room again buzzed with conversation, and I tried several times to catch Narian's eye. But whenever I glanced toward him, his attention was elsewhere, and I couldn't help thinking this was deliberate on his part.

After Destari's departure, my father turned to my mother, Miranna and me.

“You need not stay. It would be best if you retired to your quarters while we men discuss these developments.”

My mother nodded, her face pale, and my father attempted to soothe her.

“We have dealt with the Cokyrians before, and we will deal with this situation as well. There is no need to be afraid.”

My mother stood, and she and Miranna left, accompanied
by several guards. Halias remained in the Throne Room, however. I made no move to follow them, and my father looked quizzically at me.

“I would like to stay. I will not cause any disruption—I only want to know what decision is reached as to Narian.”

He acquiesced, too distracted by the matter at hand to argue, and I sank deeper into my chair to make myself both warmer and less conspicuous. Cannan approached my father and they engaged in a muted exchange, at the end of which the captain beckoned to Narian, who was still observing everyone. Narian straightened and crossed the floor, giving my father a deferential bow as he came to stand before the two men.

Cannan examined the young man for several moments, but Narian looked directly back at him, showing no sign of unease. Finally, Cannan spoke.

“The High Priestess would not personally pursue just any Cokyrian boy. It is time you told us the nature of your relationship to her.”

My chest tightened at Cannan's words, and I began to pick at the fox fur throw upon my lap. At my father's glance, I forced my hands to lie motionless in my lap, as I did not want my habit to draw Cannan's notice, lest he deduce that I knew something relevant to his inquiry. While I wasn't sure how truthful Narian would be, I knew I would never be able to conceal anything from the captain if he turned to me for information. Narian said nothing, his expression inscrutable.

“Perhaps you are but a runaway,” Cannan continued, his commanding eyes set on the sixteen-year-old's face. When Narian still said naught, Cannan turned to the King. “If that is the case, Sire, I see no need to go to war simply to protect a miscreant child from a parent's retribution.”

I did not know if Cannan were truly suggesting we return Narian to the High Priestess, but my stomach squirmed at the possibility. I glanced toward the antechamber doors, hoping this conversation would end before London and Destari arrived, as they would certainly give their captain the information he sought.

“I cannot speak to the reason I was abducted as an infant,” Narian finally responded, sounding cowed, and I wondered if he were just playing to his audience.

“As I have told you before, I did not know I was Hytanican until last summer. Then I journeyed here to learn of my heritage. The High Priestess is insistent upon my return because I was raised, as are others, to serve her, and she does not like to lose things she values.” He paused, hanging his head, and his golden bangs fell forward to hide his expression. “I will not suffer, as you put it, a mere ‘parent's retribution' should I be placed in her custody.”

After a brief moment, Narian lifted his tortured blue eyes to my father's kindly brown ones, aware that the King was the weak link.

“I feel no loyalties to Cokyri, Your Majesty. While I will, without argument, comply with any decision you make as to my future, I ask you to permit me to claim Hytanica as my home.”

My father could not turn Narian away.

“Cannan, my decision stands. We will provide him with the same protection I would provide to any of our children.”

The captain looked one last time at Narian, measuring him with his eyes, and it seemed to me that he knew the young man was concealing something. He did not, however, pursue the subject.

“You should return to my office,” the captain said.

“Thank you, sir,” Narian said to Cannan. Then he bowed again to my father. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

This time the relief I detected seemed genuine. He did as he had been told and retreated toward the captain's office, although he did not enter, but resumed his earlier stance against the wall.

As we continued to wait for London and Destari to arrive, I reflected upon the ambiguous nature of Narian's explanation. While he had, strictly speaking, been truthful, his carefully chosen words could hold more than one meaning.
I cannot speak to the reason I was abducted
would be interpreted by my father as,
I don't know the reason,
rather than,
I know, but will not reveal it.

It was but a half hour later that Destari and London entered. They strode up the center of the Hall of Kings together, the guards in the room falling silent as they followed the progress of the man most of them had come to call traitor. I knew there were some who believed otherwise, and counted Cannan among them, despite the fact that he had been involved in the decision to discharge my former bodyguard. If Cannan sincerely thought London a traitor, he would not have allowed him into the palace, save to throw him into the dungeon.

London said nothing, but watched the captain, who found himself in a rather awkward position. After clenching and unclenching his jaw several times, Cannan posed the relevant question.

“London, you know the Cokyrians better than anyone. What would you suggest we do?”

“What valuable military advice could a commoner offer to the Captain of the Guard?” London parried, raising a mordant eyebrow.

Cannan stared murderously at his former guard for a moment, then cleared his throat.

“With my authority as commander of Hytanica's military, I reinstate you to your position in the King's Elite Guard and to your former rank of deputy captain.”

Somehow, impossibly, my horrible deed had been undone. Perhaps now London would find it within himself to forgive me. I was so elated that I struggled to keep myself from running to him. London, for his part, merely tilted his head toward Cannan to show his gratitude, no change in his bearing.

The captain was unwilling to let London relish the moment for long.

“Now, what action do you propose we take?”

“This is really quite simple,” London replied, taking control. Turning to my father, he asked, “Do you intend to return the boy, Your Majesty?”

“No,” my father replied. “He is Hytanican, and as such is granted the abiding protection of his kingdom.”

“Then this is what we must do.” The tone of London's voice indicated he would brook no contradiction. “Inform the Cokyrians that we have prevailed upon Narian to return, but that he needs time to bid farewell to his family. Tell them that we will bring him to the bridge in five days, at which time we will transfer him to their custody.

“During these five days, Hytanica must prepare for whatever response will be forthcoming from Cokyri when they learn that Narian is not actually going to be turned over to them. Forces must be assembled to defend the city if indeed it comes to that.”

“And of the meeting?” the King asked. “Are we to ignore it altogether?”

“I will meet the Cokyrians at the appointed time and
location to try to forestall their retaliation.” London's statement earned a few dubious mutterings, but he did not pay attention. “I will inform the High Priestess that we claim Narian as Hytanican by birth and by choice, and that he will not be delivered into her custody.”

Despite the grumbling among those assembled, Cannan and my father nodded their agreement to London's proposed strategy. My father then dismissed all but his personal guards, and Cannan and London moved into the captain's office to discuss the technicalities of the plan. As they passed Narian, I noticed that his cool blue eyes never for an instant left London's face.

ONCE THE HIGH PRIESTESS HAD CONSENTED TO meet at the bridge five days hence, the city throbbed with activity as it prepared for a potential siege, and Cannan sent patrols to the surrounding villages to instruct their inhabitants to be ready to move inside our walls with little warning if such became necessary. Hunting parties braved the woods to our north, and the villagers slaughtered whatever animals they could sacrifice as part of a plan to stockpile food and other provisions. Hundreds of other supplies were gathered to guard against a potentially long and arduous winter. Weaponry was checked, repaired and counted, and the armories in the palace and at the Military Complex were replenished so that not a single soldier would fall short of the required arms.

When the fifth day arrived, I awoke before dawn in order to see off London and the thirty soldiers who were to accompany him on their mission. Destari would be attending the meeting as well; as the only soldier of rank other than London, it would be his task to assess how great and immediate a threat
the Cokyrians posed to Hytanica while London delivered the King's message.

In Destari's absence, Tadark had been reassigned as my bodyguard. I had not spoken to the small-statured, baby-faced guard since he had betrayed me to Cannan by confessing the nature of my visits with Narian. He was, therefore, initially on edge around me, but I paid no heed, as I had far more pressing concerns. It did not take him long to conclude all was forgotten, if not forgiven, and he soon resumed his annoying habits.

With Tadark aggravatingly close to me, I came down the Grand Staircase and went into the Central Courtyard, where London, Destari, Cannan and my father stood by the gates at the far end. Destari was in uniform, as was expected of anyone who acted as a representative of Hytanica, but London, ever the rebel, still wore his leather jerkin and weathered boots. On the other side of the open gates, the troops, in full uniform with plates of armor protecting their chests and backs, waited on horseback for the two Elite Guards to join them.

As I approached, with Tadark just a few feet behind, the chilly morning air felt harsh and unfriendly, and I shivered despite my heavy cloak. Though this was supposed to be a simple meeting, no one thought the Cokyrians would receive Hytanica's message with grace. It was probable that fewer soldiers would return than were departing.

I stopped a few feet away from the men, knowing I would not be welcomed, at least by my father and Cannan, but wanting London and Destari to know that I wished them well. Although London had returned to duty within the palace, he had not yet come to see me, and I hoped things were resolved between us.

London glanced at me, then strode to my side before mounting his horse.

“You should not be here,” he said. “But then I've never known anyone who flouts as many rules as you do.”

“I believe that can be attributed to your influence,” I replied, relieved by his casual manner.

“We will return without injury,” he promised. “But if not, know that what happened between us is in the past, and that you never left my heart.”

I nodded, my eyes watery. He and Destari mounted their horses and rode out at the head of the troops. I watched until the somber aftermath became more frigid than the air, then sought the serenity of the chapel to say a prayer for the safety of our men before returning to my quarters to wait for news.

Time passed slowly, and with each moment, my sense of doom grew. Our troops would have reached the bridge by now. How many Cokyrians would they have encountered? Had the message been delivered? How had the enemy responded? And, the most terrible question of all, were my two most trusted guards alive?

As the day wore on, I would stand on my balcony to survey the city and what land I could see beyond its walls, checking for movement. It was not until the weak November sun had begun its plummet toward the horizon that I saw riders approaching in the distance. I stared intently, knowing that London and Destari would lead, then left my quarters to stumble to the Grand Staircase, for I had seen only one horse heading our men.

With a sick feeling in my stomach, I waited on the landing above the first floor. I heard footsteps from below and saw Cannan and my father emerge from the antechamber followed
by several guards, obviously having been told that our men were returning.

I stayed put, knowing that my father would not approve of my presence when the Elite Guards entered to make their report. I swallowed several times to clear the lump from my throat, and for once Tadark had the courtesy to give me some space by standing against the wall behind me.

The paradoxical tranquillity was agonizing, and time slowed to a maddening crawl, although in fact it was only minutes before the doors were yanked open by the Palace Guards. As both London and Destari entered, taking rasping, exhausted breaths, I clutched the banister for support lest I collapse with relief.

London seemed to be unharmed, albeit sweat-drenched and grimy, but as I examined Destari, I saw that his left shirtsleeve was soaked crimson. The wound, however it had been inflicted, had been bleeding profusely for quite some time. I was sickened by the sight of the blood, but made no sound nor effort not to see.

“Report,” Cannan ordered.

“The Cokyrians were not pleased by what I had to say, though to their credit they were unsurprised,” London said wryly, rubbing the back of his neck. “They attacked us as we were leaving. My horse took an arrow in the neck, and when Destari came back for me, he took one in the shoulder.”

“The arrow grazed my arm,” Destari said, as worried eyes fell upon him. “It looks worse than it feels.”

“You should have it examined straightaway,” my father insisted, gesturing toward the wound, more upset by the sight than I. “You have been bleeding quite heavily—perhaps the wound needs to be sewn.”

“There are many who fared worse, Your Majesty. I am in need of no one's care at this moment.”

“How many were injured?” Cannan probed, and I shrank from hearing the answer.

“Twenty-four soldiers returned with us,” said London, after glancing at Destari and deciding it was he who would deliver the bad tidings. He sounded strangely distant as he spoke. “Of those, nine were taken to the infirmary at the military base. The six who were left behind are, presumably, dead.”

I clenched my jaw so fiercely that my teeth began to ache. I wanted to weep as I thought of the families of the six slain soldiers and how they would soon learn that their husband, or their father, brother or son, was dead, killed during a simple and, based on the information that had been released, safe mission. Perhaps their wives were waiting dinner for them, not yet knowing that they lay lifeless on the shore of the river, stuck with Cokyrian arrows. I withheld my tears with difficulty as I pictured the dignified faces of the Cokyrians who had been inside the kingdom I called home less than a week ago, and saw not the regal figures I had judged them to be, but merciless killers.

“Does the enemy have sufficient numbers to pose an immediate threat?” Cannan was asking as I recovered from my shock.

“No, sir, not a threat against the city,” Destari answered. “Nor did they pursue us. They also suffered injuries and, perhaps, casualties.”

“Go to the infirmary and see who lives, and Destari, have your wound treated,” Cannan instructed, sounding drained as he experienced afresh the pain of war that had been absent for sixteen years. “I will send troops out to collect the bodies and to reinforce our protection of the bridge.”

London and Destari gave curt nods and the small group dispersed, the two guards exiting through the main doors, Cannan and my father heading in the direction of the captain's office.

 

In the aftermath of the debacle at the bridge, Cannan increased the number of soldiers who patrolled Hytanica's borders by day and by night, and sent scouts into the Niñeyre Mountains to monitor the activities of the Cokyrians. Although our enemy had departed, no one expected this state of affairs to last, and our kingdom was on high alert for any sign of their return. But there were no incidents. Destari, who returned to his assignment as my bodyguard less than a week after he had been injured, said it was reminiscent of the end of the war, when the Cokyrians had abandoned their attack and vacated their encampments to remain unseen for sixteen years.

As the days plodded on, the city was restive. A sensation of doom hung over it, yet each new day brought another reprieve. It was when we entered the month of December, with the passage of just over two weeks since the meeting at the bridge, that the atmosphere in the city and at the palace became noticeably less strained. The Christmas season was approaching, and in spite of the unsettled state of affairs with Cokyri, spirits were rising. Though Cannan had not reduced the number of troops on patrol, the Hytanican people began to believe that the Cokyrians did not intend to strike, and many thought it inconceivable that they would start a war over one boy.

During this stressful but uneventful time, I saw little of Narian, though he continued to reside in our guest wing, and I had not yet spoken with him. I could only assume that
Cannan had forbidden him access to certain parts of the palace, probably harboring some concern about Narian's relationship to the High Priestess. I did see more of London, however, as he was often with Destari, and I began to feel as though I once again had two bodyguards. I was not surprised, therefore, when I left my quarters late one afternoon to visit the library and found both men outside my parlor door.

I made my way through the corridors, trailed by both guards, who were speaking to each other in hushed tones, but I was too happy to have London back to be irked by their manner, whether it was conscious on their part or not. Though it was not yet time for dinner, all the lanterns in the corridors had been lit, as the daylight hours had diminished now that winter was upon us. Despite the fact that fires smoldered in most of the fireplaces within the palace, the interior temperature was dropping, and I tugged a shawl more closely about my shoulders to ward off the chill.

As we entered the library, my eyes fell on Narian, who was seated in one of the armchairs by the hearth, immersed in a book, light from the flames casting flickering shadows upon his face and adding a touch of red to his blond hair. He raised his head and came to his feet, looking almost hopeful, but his guarded façade emerged as he realized Destari and London were with me.

“Princess Alera,” he said, giving me a courteous nod.

Now that I had seen him free of his calculated aloofness on several occasions, I hated it when he employed the guise. Nevertheless, I understood the need to observe formalities whenever anyone else (especially the two guards with whom we were currently keeping company) was at hand.

“Good evening, Lord Narian,” I said, so conscious of the
need to act naturally that every word and movement felt awkward. “Does living in the palace agree with you?”

“I am well accommodated, though I feel a bit constrained.”

Confused as to the constraints to which he alluded, I asked, “Do you miss your family?”

“No, I have not seen my family since before the tournament. I miss being outdoors. I miss the activity.”

An idea came to me, something that might give me a chance to spend some less supervised time with him.

“Perhaps, then, you would like to help us prepare the palace for Christmas. We will be hanging holly, mistletoe and ivy throughout the palace, and on the exterior—”

“I don't think that's the sort of activity he is missing, Alera,” London interjected, leaning against the wall to the left of the window near the book-filled aisles. “I'm sure he'll tell you if you ask him—he's used to daily training and drill. You can lose your edge if you go too long without training.”

Narian stared coolly at London, though a small crease in his brow had appeared. I closed my eyes, hoping London had finished. Of course, he had not.

“I could continue your training,” he offered, though he watched Narian with predatory eyes. “After all, I am well acquainted with your instructor's methods.”

I took a quick, involuntary breath. Destari, who had moved to the window seat, looked shocked as well, his dark eyebrows rising. Narian glanced at us, then returned his stare to London.

“Oh, well,” London said, pulling a book from a nearby shelf and rifling through its pages. “Just a thought.”

Though everyone in the room was gawking at him, London remained nonchalant and I marveled at his composure. Never
before had he mentioned his ordeal in Cokyri, and now he had flippantly implied that he not only had met the Overlord, but knew a great deal about his methods and how Narian had been trained. I was the only one in whom Narian had confided; I alone knew for certain that the Overlord had been his teacher. I should have anticipated, given what London had said to me prior to the exhibition, that he would put the pieces together, but that he would be bold enough to tell Narian how much he had surmised was unexpected.

“So, about Christmas,” I said to Narian, my throat having gone so dry that my voice sounded hoarse. “Would you care to join us?”

Narian appeared not to have heard me. His eyes were fixed on London's hands as they turned the pages of his book.

“That ring does not belong to you,” he declared.

London held up his right hand, palm turned in, displaying the wide silver band on his forefinger, which was overlaid with the intricate design of a never-ending chain. I stared at it, the only jewelry that he ever wore, and that he was never without.

“Oh, I think it does belong to me,” London disagreed, cocking an eyebrow in warning. “I more than paid for it sixteen years ago.”

A thunderous silence hung in the room as Narian and London stared distrustfully at each other. Finally, the younger man tore his gaze away, and I repeated my question, hoping to dispel the tension that saturated the air.