Secrets of the Night Special Edition (40 page)

"I've been concerned about the king," he said, his words moderating her gloomy thoughts. Her heart leaped. Did he intend to confess his part in the plot? But no, why would he do that?

"Let me put it bluntly. His Majesty is in danger."

"Danger?" She stopped herself from saying "I know,” for he'd wonder at her source of information. "Explain yourself.”

"There are some in the kingdom who wish your father harm, and--"

"I can’t believe this,” she said, still treading a wary path. “Give me their names."
Besides Midac Balor. And what about you?

"I beg of you, madam, let that remain a secret for the present. As yet, I don't know all involved in the conspiracy, but I hope to ferret out the traitors soon." His clenched knuckles showed white, a sharp frown creasing his forehead. "It would be . . . unwise to divulge any names now.”

She twisted her fingers in the grass, her gaze steady on him. She knew the answer to her next question but wanted to hear his explanation. "How do you know about the plot and the plotters?"

"I'm in their confidence," he said with a level gaze, his look calm.

She tried to conceal her surprise that he would confess. "How so?"

"In my army years under Balor, I worked hard to gain his trust." He paused, drawing the other leg up. "Not because I trust
him,
mind you, but because I recognize his importance to the kingdom. In all that time, he's made occasional remarks critical of your father, hinting that he could do a better job as ruler. I did nothing to contradict his assessment of the king but played along with his suggestions. In the back of my mind," he said, tapping his head, "it occurred to me that I could use my pretended acquiescence to the kingdom's benefit. So this is why I'm talking to you now."

He let another moment of silence pass, as if collecting his thoughts. "Now, about the king--you have great influence with His Majesty, madam. It might be wise if you suggested a holiday, or possibly a state visit, anything to get the king safely out of Avador. For several months, if possible.”

Conscious of the challenge, she shook her head. "He'll never agree to leaving the country, and certainly not for a long period of time. He's always said his place is here with his people. But he needs a rest. I must persuade him to leave."

"Indeed. Otherwise, I fear his life is forfeit. But I ask one favor of you."

"What's that?" She kept a cautious eye on him, still unsure if she could trust him.

"You must never reveal that I warned you of the danger, lest word leaks to Balor, jeopardizing my ability to stay in his confidence. This must remain a secret between us."

"And I will treat the warning as such. Major, your advice is unnecessary." Keriam paused, an obvious question forming. "How do I know I can trust
you?
"

"Madam, please understand one thing. I'm a loyal subject who wishes your father a long and fruitful reign. He is a conscientious ruler who has done much good for the country. For my family, too." He stared across the meadow. She studied his face while he spoke, his straight nose and firm jaw, his firm lips, then snatched her mind back to his words. She looked at his hands again, and it wasn’t difficult to imagine those hands touching her, caressing her. Her face warmed, and she brought her mind back to his words. "Once, years ago, when the king was passing through our village, my father requested an audience.” The major swung his attention back to her. “A distant cousin claimed land left to my father. After hearing both sides, King Tencien ruled in my father's favor. So you see, my family owes the king much. But I would be loyal, anyway, and I would not see any harm come to him or to the kingdom."

Goddess, thank you!
She’d been mistaken about him all along. Or was his suggestion only a ruse to lull her into believing him innocent, should an assassination--the Goddess forbid!--actually succeed? How could she find out, or would she ever?

As if reading her mind, Roric pressed his right fist to his chest. "Never doubt my loyalty, Princess Keriam. I swear by Talmora, I'd give my life for the king.”

Keriam released a slow sigh; to break such an oath was to risk the Goddess's swift punishment and eternal damnation. A swell of relief dizzied her, a heavy weight lifting from her shoulders. So Roric was not part of the plot against her father. Now she had an ally in her quest to keep her father safe. She wasn’t alone anymore.

But a deeper reason–one she didn’t dare examine too closely–prompted this spurt of happiness.

* * *

Inside the spacious palace library, Keriam bent over to examine the few engineering titles along one shelf, hoping to learn more about building bridges. As her father had said at the Bel Festival, the kingdom--and especially the capital--needed more and better bridges to span its many rivers. The royal library housed a collection of rare books and manuscripts, but more important, engineering books. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves lined the room, but many empty spaces remained, most notably children's books, a reminder to procure more of those whenever she had a chance.

But how could she concentrate on bridges, when Balor haunted her mind night and day? His marriage proposal returned to taunt her. What should she say if he repeated his offer? She could no longer postpone refusal. She would not marry that fiend.

Bright sunlight through the wide windows turned the tan sheepskin rugs to gold. Burnished wooden shelves and tables shone like glass, and sunshine warmed the room. The windows stood open, bringing a light breeze that wafted the green silk draperies and diffused the scent of hyacinths posing in a bronze vase.

She thought about Roric Gamal and their talk outside the library in Moytura. She stopped for a moment, reliving every moment of their time together, remembering his every facial expression, his deep voice and clipped speech, his long dark hair that fell to his shoulders. A man she could never forget. And didn’t want to forget.

Glancing up, she saw someone standing in the doorway. She pushed away from the bookcase. "Conneid Delbraith," she said, beckoning to the king’s secretary. "I don't see you very often anymore."

"My misfortune, princess. Please, a moment of your time."

"Of course. Close the door, please." She led him to a sofa in the middle of the room and motioned for him to join her there. Sinking into the soft leather, she gave him an inquiring look.

Although only in his late thirties, Conneid showed gray at his temples, from too much worry? Keriam wondered.

He leaned forward. "Madam, permit me to get straight to the point. His Majesty has been working very hard--"

"How well I know. He should take a long holiday."
If only he would.

"My thoughts exactly, but he says he can't neglect the demands of his position." Conneid lowered his voice. "Madam, I fear the king is in danger, but he ignores the peril."

"Danger? What kind of danger?" she asked with caution. Be careful what you say, her brain reminded her. Roric's information about the plot must not be compromised.

His gaze darted about the room. "Don't trust General Balor. He wants to--" He choked on his words--"get rid of His Majesty.”

Keriam pretended shock. "Balor, the head of the army! Are you sure of this?”

"As sure as I am of anything. A wily man, the general. Evil would be a better word. He ravished my sister years ago. She's never recovered from such wicked depravity." He bowed his head for a moment, his mouth tight, his gaze on the floor.

"Ah, Conneid!" Tears sprang to her eyes and she brushed them away, unable to say another word.

He shook his head, as if throwing off a burden, then went on. "But it's the present that concerns me, madam. We must rid the kingdom of this fiend who wants to overthrow your father."

"Mind you, I have an open mind, but I'd like to know on what basis you make this assumption. This is a serious charge."

"Once I came across him in a hurried conversation with one of his lieutenants. He stopped talking as soon as he saw me. Oh, I know their talk could have concerned any innocent topic, but why did his lieutenant look so guilty when he saw me? As if he were caught in a crime? Besides that, I've received warnings from others."

"Give me a few moments to consider what you've told me." Silence fell over the library while Keriam's mind worked. She must protect herself and her sources, but at the same time, must thwart Balor. Oh, to rid herself of all this pretense, to say to the world, Yes, I know Balor is a beast, and Aradia, too. But she would fight them as long as she had breath in her body. And she would defeat them both.

After a long moment, she twisted her amethyst ring on her finger, then rose from the sofa. Conneid Delbraith followed. "We must do something, and soon," she said, a hint of steel in her voice. "If what you say is true, we must work before the general's scheme comes to fruition."

"May I ask what you intend to do, madam?"

"We need evidence against the general, someone to spy on him. Can you recommend anyone?" At this point, she didn't know whom to trust. So far, her nightly spirit travels had produced no revelations.

"Princess, I fear I couldn't help you there. Roric Gamal is the man to ask. With his military background and long service with the king, he's bound to know someone who could spy on Balor."

"Roric Gamal," she mused aloud, her heart leaping. "I haven't seen him around the palace lately."

"No, madam. He's on a mission for His Majesty, to Lonan, I believe."

"Very well, I'll speak to him when he returns.” She gave him a warm smile. “And thank you for coming to me, Conneid. You have ever been a good friend."

"It's been a pleasure and an honor, princess." He led the way across the carpeted floor and opened the heavy library door for her. One of Balor's officers walked past, sliding a suspicious look their way. What was he doing in the palace?

"Well, that's all I wanted to tell you," Delbraith said in a clear voice. "Just wanted to thank you for helping my wife. She's feeling so much better since you brought those herbs to her."

"Anytime I can help, Conneid." Her heart beat fast as her gaze followed the officer’s strides down the long hallway, his boots clattering on the flagstones. She clenched her hands at her side until he disappeared into one of the conference rooms; then she snatched her mind back to immediate concerns. She reminded herself she must not look for conspiracies everywhere, and that most likely his appearance here had an innocent explanation. Despite her best intentions, fear gnawed at her insides. The sooner she had tangible evidence against the plotters, the better.

When Roric Gamal returned to the palace, she would launch her plan.

* * *

Free from palace duties and mindful of the need for divine protection for her father, Keriam left the palace early one afternoon to head for the Nantosuelta River. There, she would pray to the river goddess who would surely watch over her father. Perhaps then Aventina would keep her father free from harm, protect him from the plotters.

Stepping outside the back entrance, she checked to make sure all the guards were in place. She circled the palace, greeting the guards as she passed. Since she’d doubled the outside sentries, she felt more secure in protecting her father, but still she knew an accomplished assassin could commit his evil deed anywhere.

Frowning, she motioned to Hafgan. “One of the guards is missing.”

Hafgan turned away for a moment, then looked at her, his face flushed. “He had an errand, madam.”

“For His Majesty?”

“No, madam, a personal errand.” Staring down, he scuffed his boot on the gravel.

She flinched, as if he had hit her. “And you let him
go
?”

“Madam, he said it was important and that he would return shortly.”

She pointed a finger at him. “Listen, nothing is more important than the king’s safety. When he comes back, you must dismiss him. And Hafgan, if this happens again,
you
will be dismissed.”

“I understand, Princess Keriam.,” he said, a contrite expression on his face.

She stalked away, hoping the ride to the capital would burn off her anger. After Traigh, the head stableman, saddled Laith, she rode northward to Moytura, past the crops ripening in the fields, the many farmsteads and barns along the way. Desperately trying to dismiss her fury at the guard–and Hafgan---she flipped her hair from her shoulders, thankful for the light breeze on her face. Stone mile markers revealed the many miles slipping past, and after much riding, she reached Moytura. She dismounted at the entrance to the city and walked the horse past the many shops, headed for the meadow.

In the glade, birdsong trilled from the trees, sunlight gleaming through the branches. Ash, oak, and hawthorn branches swayed, the breeze becoming stronger. Shoving her hair from her face, Keriam glanced at two squirrels playing tag in the trees. Considered sacred and protected by royal decree because they were Talmora's favorite animal, the delightful rodents ran rampant throughout the country, numbering in the millions. Aware of the need to complete her act of propitiation, she rode farther on to the
Nantosuelta
River
and tethered Laith to an ash branch.