The Lords of Valdeon (29 page)

"And how do you dry yourselves, shake off in the breeze?" Dante snorted as he watched Seth finger the soft cloth. "Here, put this on."

He took the offered nightshirt from Dante. It was a rich fabric with ornate stitching upon the breast pocket. He couldn’t imagine why a person would need a pocket while they slept. Pulling on the shirt, he found that it fit him very well. Hurriedly stuffing the vile and the coin into the pocket of his nightshirt, he followed Dante. They moved back into the kitchen to find Leo sitting by the fire, sipping at a small glass of amber liquid. The amber flecks in his eyes glowed in the light of the flames.

"Your nightshirt fits the Cub, Leo." Dante pulled at the fabric. "He has a bit of room to expand, but I'll soon fatten him up."

Leo nodded with a smile and poured two more glasses of the liquid. Seth took a seat beside him. He accepted the glass from Leo and sniffed it. Strong spices with the hint of fruit wafted from the glass.

"Let us toast to new friendships."

Leo lifted the glass toward them. Seth raised his too when Dante did. The amber liquid was spicy and rolled down his throat in warm streams of sweetness. The streams began to burn, and he coughed, clutching at his throat.

"This is special liquor made from the barks of cherry trees around my home in San Leonora. It is called spice wine."

"I like it."

He took another mouthful and turned to stare into the fire. The flames rose and fell in undulating bands of warmth. Seth pushed aside all the memories of the day to focus on Leo’s words as they’d walked down the Main Row. His warrior father had called Seth a hero. No lie darkened his eyes when he'd said those words and none as he spoke of Seth's mother. It was time to tell Leo the rest.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the tiny vial and the gold coin. He handed them to Leo, who stared at them silently. Slowly, careful to include each detail he could remember, Seth recounted the events on the day of his mother's death and everything he'd learned up to Leo bailing him out of jail.

"It is a promissory marker issued by the Tslavian Royal Family as promise of payment for large sums of money. They aren't given lightly." Leo handed the coin back to Seth. "Whoever lost that coin can't collect his money without it. He'll be back."

"Let us hope it belonged to one of the men you struck down today, Leo." Dante sniffed at the empty vile. "Devil's Cape. This is Sandor's calling card."

"I don't think the villain is concerned with money. He despises me. My death is personal to Sandor. Hatred compels him to continue his attempts to kill me." Seth touched the crystal beneath his shirt. "Why couldn't he let us go? The last letter from Mother’s friend welcomed both of us to her home. We were leaving Marianna together with no intention of hurting or bothering anyone."

"Letter?" Leo lifted his eyes from the vial to regard Seth.

"I found letters and some other things in Mother’s hiding place after she died." Seth pulled the necklace from under his nightshirt.

"May I see these things you found?" Leo's fingertips gently caressed the heart crystal at Seth’s neck.

"I'll fetch them as soon as I can sneak down the Sea Steps again to the wharf. A portrait of you and mother was among the letters. I'm sure you'd like to have it."

"My thanks to you." His father leaned back in the chair, keeping his eyes focused on Seth. "Now you must go to your rest. I have kept you up too long."

A gentle touch pressed heavily upon his mind, pushing him toward sleep. His eyes closed as the heat of the drink seeped into his body. Warmth surrounded him, and he leaned his head against the side of the comfortable chair.

"He is very much like her."

"The Cub has his father in him too. He has courage."

"Yes, it is my hope he has more of his mother in him than his father."

"Well, courage or no, Leo, the boy looks half starved. What do they feed their young on this barbaric dot upon the water? He needs fattening up."

The fragrance of exotic spice and citrus wrapped gently about him. Seth breathed it in deeply, easing the last of his fears. His head rolled forward and he started awake. It took a few moments for him to realize he was back in the cozy farmhouse. Leo was close to him, kneeling at his chair. Seth opened his hand, letting him take the full glass of liquor. Seth stifled a great yawn. He must have fallen asleep in the warmth of the cozy kitchen. The night was full on now. He struggled to make his legs move as he staggered away from the chair. Leo seemed to understand and took his arm.

"Come, Seth. Your bed is ready. You need a good night’s sleep, yes?"

The insistent power continued to lull him toward sleep. He nodded dully, trying to reason out where they were headed. Leo brought him to a small room with a comfortable-looking bed and a small writing desk.

"Into bed with you, my son."

Seth did what he was told and sunk down into the soft blankets. He closed his eyes with a contented sigh. Safe. The word echoed in his exhausted mind. He recognized the voice. It was the same soft whisper that came to him upon the breeze as he stood at Lands End.

"Sleep well, little one. You will live with your father. I am with you now and will keep you safe. This I swear."

Chapter Twenty-Three

Old lips gripped the glass as thick, amber liquid passed between them. Julian sat across from Chancellor Benito, waiting as the old man finished his drink. The expensive liquor was a delicacy from Heidelbreckt. He'd taken great care to pick up a bottle on his last visit. The drink was one of Benito's favorites.

"You spoil me, my prince."

"It is the least I can do for the man who keeps our country at peace in such turbulent times. You carry a great burden, my lord chancellor." Julian brought the contrite mask of sympathy to his features.

Benito stretched his arms overhead and yawned. The tired smile came slowly to his face, but Julian wasn't fooled. Beneath the old visage burned the ambition of a young man. He would not easily give up the power he had been given.

"True. In my younger days, I could stay on my feet for much longer."

"The pressures of office, no doubt. It is your wisdom which guides us now, Benito. Younger men don't have your experience." Julian poured them another glass. "It is your guidance and wisdom I seek now. As the last surviving son of our dead king, I feel there is much more I could be doing to help. I ask you to use me, my lord, in any way you can."

He mustered the appropriate amount of patriotic emotion in the undertones of his voice. Benito, agreeably moved, patted his hand. A condescending smile touched the old lips. Julian returned it. Flattery was a tool he'd crafted to control the arrogant.

"I daresay we could use your help in calming the people. Were they to see their prince urging them to remain peaceful, they would follow your word."

Julian lifted his glass with a slight bow. The chancellor was offering to put him in a leadership role as the face of Valdeonian peace. What better endorsement could there be for his new role as regent? The old fool was practically handing him the throne.

Ash gray uniforms marched across the courtyard of the palace outside the chancellor's office. Julian moved to the window. His dark eyes followed the stomping boots with growing irritation. He’d make many changes when he was crowned king. The first would be the permanent removal of the Jalora Legion from Valdeon.

"Peace will not come as long as they occupy the palace, my lord chancellor." He waved a hand at the twenty-two lesser rangers as they marched about the grounds. "The Dragon has positioned his army at the very gates of the Palace of Kings! He has ignored your desires to keep the Jalora Legion out of the affairs of Valdeon."

"Come now." The old man shook his head with a tolerant smile. "The cardinal has allowed them to pay their respects to our fallen king. That is all. Wolf assures me they are necessary in helping him keep the peace."

Julian leaned a hand upon the window, bracing himself against his growing frustration. The Wolf’s hold on Benito was stronger than he'd imagined. It was futile to keep to this course. He'd have to find another way to deal with Wolf.

"I hope you’re right. One of those rangers could sweep through a troop of soldiers. I’ve seen them do it, and so have you."

Julian turned to go, leaving the old man to look out the window. Boots stomping in perfect unison thundered upon the ground outside. San Leonora's feeble dependence upon a fading legion with outdated religious beliefs was crippling the entire country.

"I would ask you to remember who leads them, my lord chancellor." Julian stopped at the door. "Would you discount my concerns so easily knowing the very man the renegades from the West would set upon the throne also commands this troop of killers?"

Julian left Benito and headed down the rear corridors to avoid the atrium. His chambers were located on the main level in the northernmost section of the palace. Away from the rush and noise of court, its location afforded him solitude.

"Out of my way!" He unleashed his spite upon an old woman scrubbing the tiled floor. She scurried out of his way, bowing as he passed.

He took a steadying breath, forcing down the anger. His plans had been delayed by the loss of the Lion Ring, yes, but he could still see hope. Two challenges stood in his way, Leo and Xavier De Vincente. His father was out of reach for the time being. It was best to focus on his nearest problem, the Wolf. He had Chancellor Benito’s ear despite Julian’s efforts to discredit him. Many of the other Valdeonian Lords also trusted the ranger. It sickened Julian to see how they hung upon Wolf’s every word like weakling pups.

The Wolf has great power, Julian,
the Sarcion whispered.
He is the only man who could steal the throne from you. The Wolf could take it without lifting a sword. Better to have done with him. Kill the Wolf! Kill the young Lords of Valdeon!

Julian’s insides twisted with rage. He had to take action. Something had to be done about Xavier De Vincente and the other members of the Sacred Guard. The young Lords of Valdeon would be easily vanquished if Wolf was out of the picture.

An elaborate arch made from the same stone as the throne room stood like a sentry over the entrance to an ancient wing of the palace. For centuries it housed the Lion and his family. During the rare times a Jalora Master walked among them, the Sacred Guard was housed in the wing as well. Even now, the Jalora's magic groped with angry fingers toward his ring. Julian hurried passed the entrance and continued on toward the chapel. He'd never been comfortable under the magic's judgmental touch and had moved his bedchambers out of the wing.

The double doors of the chapel stood at the entrance of another ancient wing at the very northern section of the palace. Julian headed to the left several steps, pretending to move to his bedchambers a few doors down. Satisfied no one was following him, he hurried through the doors of the chapel. Several small candles flickered at the altar. Someone was vigilant about mourning his father.

He walked by the altar without any of the usual rituals and stopped before an iron rod gate. The chains normally securing entry to the catacombs had been unlocked. He quietly opened the gate and took a torch from its holder. The same thoughtful soul had left another torch burning just out of sight from the chapel. Julian touched his torch to the flame. The light exploded in the darkness, revealing a set of winding stone steps leading downward.

The tombs of his dead ancestors lined the stairwell as he descended into the catacombs. His footsteps echoed in the eerie silence. This was the one place in all of Andara he could find peace. Walking amongst his ancestors fed his commitment to see the glory of Valdeon restored.

"Greetings, mighty prince." Whisper's bulbous head floated a hand's breadth away. Its hideous little face grinned in momentary glee. Julian staggered away on the steps, striking his shoulder hard against one of the tombs before righting himself.

"How is it you've come inside the Palace of Kings without being detected?"

Whisper may be maintaining its apologetic tone, but there was more to the little creature than he had first supposed. Great power would be needed to bypass the Sacred Guard. Their connection to the Altar should alert them to any breaches by creatures like Whisper.

"My emperor has gifted me with many powers, great prince." It spread tiny arms wide and cast its eyes downward. "I use them to serve."

"And you serve Lord Gorman today, I suppose."

"Indeed, mighty prince, I do. He has sent me to warn you. The Jalora's pets have not been idle. Lord Gorman intercepted a messenger sent by the one you call ‘Wolf.’ He was carrying a plea for aid to the Jalora Legion."

Wolf again! Curse the man. He dared call in the legion without the permission of the chancellor. What better proof of Wolf's lust for the throne could there be?

"Our general has dispatched the Wolf's lackey for you. No messages will be sent or received from parties outside Valdeon. Lord Gorman believes this knowledge will help you to focus on the important tasks only you can accomplish here in San Leonora."

"Lord Gorman is too kind. He needn't worry about me. I have everything well in hand."

"Wonderful news, Prince Julian! You have the Regent's Medallion then?"

He looked away, gritting his teeth. Insisting he take the changeling babysitter with him to San Leonora was one thing, but calling him to task like a subordinate was outrageous. Lord Gorman had made his desires for the use of military force against Valdeon clear. The man's impatience for bloodshed couldn't be quieted for much longer. Julian had to find the Regent's Medallion soon, or his control on the situation would slip away and he'd find himself bowing before Gorman. The thought sickened him.

"No? That is regrettable." Whisper shook his head sadly. "My Lord Gorman loses confidence in your efforts, mighty prince. He prepares his men for battle. Lord Gorman has won many thrones for our emperor over the decades. His passion is war. He cares nothing for the treasures and history of the lands he conquers. Even less care goes to the people of those lands. Many will die, Prince of Valdeon, if your plan fails."