Allegiance (18 page)

The captain moved on, ready to leave this prickly issue behind.

“London will act as our negotiator at the meeting,” Cannan said, and I knew the deputy captain had already assumed this would be the case. “The issue that remains for us to consider is what the enemy may demand and what we would be willing to concede.”

“Nothing,” London immediately asserted. “We can give them nothing.”

“But what about Miranna?” I burst out, terrified that the
others might agree with him. “We must do something to help her!”

London looked at me with unsettling sympathy before he turned back to the captain.

“Nothing we give will ensure Miranna's return. The Cokyrians are ruthless—everyone here knows this. We could sacrifice our very kingdom, but once they had it, they would feel no obligation to uphold their side of the bargain. The Overlord would kill Miranna regardless and laugh at our folly.”

I gasped, horrified, but no one contradicted London's assessment of the situation. It was Destari who finally replied.

“If the Cokyrians do indeed bring Miranna to the negotiation meeting, there's no alternative but to try to rescue her.”

London nodded. “Yes. If she is brought to the meeting, we're going to need a plan. Halias and I will undertake that task.”

The captain nodded, bringing the discussion to an unsettling close, at least from my point of view, for even the long-awaited negotiation with the Cokyrians seemed to bring my sister no closer to coming home.

 

I was excluded from the following meetings, which, I was informed, were strategy-focused. Though hope that my sister would return had dwindled, my faith in the men who were planning her rescue ironically had not. Cannan and his deputy captains could seemingly never fail.

During this time, Steldor was incredibly moody. He seemed to blame me for the fact that I had been requested at the negotiation. This probably stemmed, in his mind, from my great mistake—if I had not gotten involved with Narian, my presence would not have been demanded by
the Cokyrians. His irritability over Kitten's name, or lack thereof, also continued. All in all, I made a point of rolling my eyes at him when his back was turned, just to keep myself sane.

On the day before the scheduled talks with the enemy, in the early afternoon, London came to my drawing room and explained what my role would be.

“When we go to the bridge, you will be under heavy guard. You will come forward with Cannan, Destari and me, along with other select guards, but will not need to say anything. It must simply be known to the High Priestess that you are there. Then Destari will escort you back to your carriage, and Cannan and I will handle the rest.”

“I can ride a horse,” I said, thinking of the fierce, confident women of Cokyri and how they would view a queen who arrived in a carriage.

London ran a hand through his hair, considering me.

“My riding lessons have continued,” I murmured, anticipating some kind of rebuke. I was grateful when he merely shrugged.

“As long as you have the ability, we should take advantage of it, if only for convenience's sake. Will you need a pair of breeches?”

“No, I have a pair that will work.”

“And do they fit?”

I suspected his mind had gone to the baggy breeches I had been wearing when he'd found me at Koranis's estate.

“More or less,” I confessed with a blush. “They are borrowed from Baelic's daughter Shaselle.”

“In any case, you may need some that will fit the occasion better,” he said with a cock of his eyebrow, having figured out who had been taking me riding. “I'll send a seamstress
to have you stand for measurements—I suspect they've never designed trousers for you before.”

The corners of my mouth lifted at the sparkle of humor in his eyes, but strangely it was then that I began to feel the anxiety that would plague me all night. London must have sensed my sudden unease, for his next words were more serious.

“You have already proven yourself a much stronger person than expected, Alera. I have absolute faith that you will represent us well.”

London's words were heartening. He had confidence in me, and I had confidence in him. No matter how frightened and uncertain I was, London would not let me fail.

Deeming his job done, he gave a curt nod, then headed toward the door.

“
I'll
tell Cannan about the breeches,” he tossed over his shoulder with a classic smirk before he disappeared from sight.

Almost within the hour, London returned with two seamstresses, who took my measurements and showed me some bolts of cloth. Having no opinion on the style or fabric of trousers, I left the decisions to them. I could tell that they found their task to be quite unorthodox; on the other hand, it presented an interesting challenge. When they had fussed with me to the extent necessary, they gathered up their materials and left, promising to deliver the breeches in the morning. London had waited, gazing politely out the window while the women worked with me.

“I saw Temerson today,” he stated casually enough as he turned to face me, but I knew his remark had not merely been conversational.

“How is he doing?” I asked, stung by my own selfishness,
for I had not given a thought to the young man who had been—who
was
—courting my sister.

“He's no worse than anyone else in this mess, but he's no better, either. He's terribly worried, but because he's not in the palace, he's received less information about the situation. I brought him up to date, for which he was very grateful.”

“Thank you for that.”

“I shall take my leave, then. Try to sleep. Tomorrow will be taxing.”

After London's departure, I joined my parents in the dining room, but my churning stomach allowed me only a few bites of the evening's meal. Steldor wasn't present, but I was too distracted to wonder where he was or what he might be doing. When I at last retreated to my quarters, I saw Casimir standing by the door, a sure sign that the King was inside. I slipped into the parlor, wary of my unpredictable husband and not wanting to have an argument on this of all nights.

Steldor sat in one of the leather armchairs near the hearth with a mug of ale, looking as if he desired to be alone. Deciding it was best not to disturb him, I crossed the room with the intention of retiring and leaving him in peace, but he called to me.

“It will be dangerous tomorrow,” he said, staring into the embers of the fireplace. “It wasn't just because of Narian that I wanted to go in your stead.”

“I know. I'll be careful.”

He turned to me, and I waited, thinking there was something more he wanted to say, but whatever it was, he couldn't quite give it voice.

“Good night then,” he finally murmured, returning his attention to the fire.

“Good night,” I echoed, entering my bedroom with a prayer that the night would be followed by a good day.

I DID NOT FEEL TIRED THE NEXT DAY, DESPITE my restless night. I got out of bed as the sun was rising and paced my room, listening to the sounds of Steldor's departure, knowing I had much time to squander. Sahdienne arrived an hour later with my breakfast, assisting me to dress in a simple skirt and blouse and fashioning my hair into a long braid down my back. The shirt of my choice was simple but elegant, and I planned to wear it along with a rich royal-blue-and-gold cloak embroidered with the crest of the royal family.

I dismissed my personal maid and moved into the parlor to pick at my food and wait for the servant who would deliver my breeches. After another hour, the girl brought the garment, and I replaced my skirt with the trousers, content with the fit and pleased with my overall appearance. I gave Kitten a quick hug before hurrying toward the door into the corridor, clutching my cloak. As I grasped the latch, I realized that I had forgotten something and reentered my bedroom to kneel before the trunk that sat against the far wall, slowly lifting the heavy lid. The official crown of the
Queen rested before me atop a plush cushion, and I carefully picked it up, then went to the mirror and positioned it on my head for the first time since the coronation. Satisfied that I looked as a ruler should, I tore my eyes from my reflection and ventured into the corridor where Destari waited for me.

When my bodyguard and I reached the top of the Grand Staircase, I saw that upward of thirty men were gathered in the Grand Entry Hall, some wearing the uniform of the Elite Guards, others that of the Palace Guards. Steldor was standing near the eastern wall, arms crossed in a tense posture, with Galen at his side.

As I descended the stairs, Cannan emerged from the antechamber, followed closely by London. To my surprise, my father came next, frown in place and hands in motion to accentuate his displeasure. I did not shy away when he shook his head at sight of my clothing, for I was not about to let his potential judgments dispirit me.

Cannan acknowledged me with a short nod, and London came forward to speak with me. My father's frown intensified as he examined me further, then he scurried after the captain, who had left him behind to talk with Halias and some of the other men.

“You're just in time,” London said, with a nod of acknowledgment to Destari. “We'll be moving out shortly.” He smirked, then added, “I was about to send a servant to wake you.”

Looking at the many soldiers milling in the hall, I asked what I had already deduced.

“They're all coming with us?”

“And cavalry troops, as well. If the negotiations turn sour, we don't want to be outnumbered.”

For the first time, I fully appreciated the danger into which I would be walking, and tingles ran up and down
my arms. Although I was frightened, I was also exhilarated about being involved in a political and military matter, for these were the things generally thought the province of men.

Cannan was drawing near, and Destari moved to his side. Halias had called the other soldiers to attention and was now directing them out the palace doors and down the long courtyard path.

“We are ready to depart, Your Highness,” the captain informed me, and I understood that formalities would be strictly observed this day. He and his deputy captains then began to escort me to the double doors, forming a triangle around me. As we passed Steldor and Galen, Cannan, who was nearest to them, clapped his son on the shoulder. Steldor nonetheless kept his gaze trained on me. I was just about to step over the threshold when he called my name.

“Alera, wait.” He walked to me, then reached up and removed my crown. “Not this time,” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “No need to mark you more visibly as a target. I'll keep it for you until you return.”

I nodded appreciatively, then proceeded out the door with my escorts. My lungs were burning with the unexpectedly crisp morning air by the time we neared the gates where fifty mounted cavalry soldiers, in well-ordered ranks, waited for us. Halias and his troops stood by with their mounts, as groomsmen, horses in hand, stepped forward to meet me and the three military commanders who would stay by my side throughout the day.

A horse had been specially prepared for my use with an intricate leather saddle befitting a queen over a rich blanket in Hytanica's colors of royal blue and gold. The horse itself was larger than any I had ridden before but stood quietly enough in the hands of its groom. I employed a little more bounce than usual to boost myself into the saddle, for many
eyes were upon me and I did not want to appear even remotely inept.

Once everyone was mounted, we began our procession through the city, attracting many spectators, who lined up on either side of the wide thoroughfare to send us on our way. I rode toward the front, following Cannan and London, with Destari, Halias and other high-ranking Elite Guards protecting my back.

We passed through the city gates in grim silence, then picked up speed, and again I felt many of the men watching me as though waiting for me to tumble to the ground. I gripped the reins tighter, determined not to falter, yet having a superstitious feeling that the mere thought in their minds would cause it to happen. It wasn't long after we departed the city that Halias and the troops under his command broke off, heading to the east, and I knew they would have some part to play in a rescue attempt if Miranna were indeed brought to the meeting.

For nearly two hours we rode south toward the river at a steady pace, my cloak pulled close to ward off the cold. When the bridge at last came into view, my heart began to hammer from more than the mere exertion of traveling. The Cokyrians surveyed us from the opposite bank, perhaps one hundred yards back from the river. We came to a halt, and the rustling of trees in the wind increased my sense of foreboding, raising the specter of lurking danger. I squinted through the autumn sunlight, already trying to make out my sister among the enemy troops, who were just slightly less in number than were we.

Both contingents sized up their adversary across the significant expanse of the Recorah River, while Cannan deployed archers along our bank. The captain then motioned
for us to advance, and we rode our horses slowly across the narrow bridge.

We halted opposite the wall of black-clothed Cokyrians, more of our troops fanning out behind us, and the man and woman at the forefront of the enemy rode forward with an accompaniment of ten guards. I recognized the High Priestess at once by her flaming hair, but the man was not immediately familiar to me, and my first horrible thought was that the Overlord had come with his sister. But the closer the small group came, the clearer became his face, and my heart began to beat as loudly as a drum. Narian was here after all.

The Cokyrians dismounted about halfway between their troops and ours, then one of the High Priestess's guards stepped forward to hail us.

“We come forward unarmed to talk peacefully with the Queen of Hytanica. Do us the honor of the same.”

In the margins of my vision, I caught the glints of sunlight that reflected from Cannan's and London's swords, although in truth I was paying little attention to my companions anymore. We dismounted, along with the dozen guards who would accompany us to meet the enemy. Without a word passing among them, each man in our negotiating group handed his weapons to a counterpart on horseback. I glanced quizzically at London, aware that he had not relinquished the dagger he kept hidden in his boot, and I both marveled at and was grateful for his lack of faith in our foe. Then we all walked forward until about forty feet separated us from the Cokyrians.

The enemy's negotiators, four in number, including the High Priestess and Narian, broke from the group and came forward several paces, their red-lined black cloaks billowing behind them in the gusty wind. Cannan, London, Destari
and I likewise advanced. As I neared the man whose features I had spent hours studying, through whose thick hair I had run my fingers, whom I had kissed more times than I could count, I was awestruck at how much he had changed in just six months. He had grown and filled out remarkably. He was no longer a boy, and his height and build were a close match for my husband's. I wondered what rigorous training he had undergone in the past half year to bring about such a dramatic transformation. Beneath it all, however, his piercing steel-blue eyes were the same. I searched for compassion in them to reflect the warm tones of his golden hair, but the love I had grown accustomed to seeing was absent, replaced by the cold guardedness reminiscent of our first encounters.

Narian's presence, although I had anticipated it, affected me profoundly, and I could not pull my eyes from him. I wondered if my tangled emotions were visible on my face, the near irrepressible urge to run to him coupled with the bitter knowledge that, as London had said, he was now the enemy, a notion fortified by the fact that he stood across from me, shoulder to shoulder with the people who had abducted my sister.

Seeing Narian among the Cokyrians made plausible Cannan's excruciating conclusion that he had been the one to reveal the existence of the tunnel. Devastating confusion besieged me. Could I love Narian when logic screamed that I should hate him? Could I hate him when even now I frantically searched for a way to prove his innocence in all of this? I forced my thoughts to return to the most important matter—my sister.

“Have you brought Princess Miranna?” London asked as we stopped twenty feet from the Cokyrians. I noticed that, even though she had requested me, the High Priest
ess's green eyes were locked upon my former bodyguard, her former prisoner.

With a flick of her hand, Nantilam brought one of her guards to her side.

“I am not a fool,” Nantilam proclaimed, keeping her steady, accusatory gaze on London. “If you would reclaim your princess, she waits for you in Cokyri. But I have brought proof of her well-being.”

The weightiness of dashed hope pushed down on me, for there would be no rescue this day. I struggled to maintain my composure, the High Priestess's promise of evidence the only thing preventing my collapse, while the intensity of Narian's eyes upon me joined in the effort to defeat me.

“What proof?” London demanded, and I could tell by the tautness in the postures of every Hytanican around me that even this early, the meeting was not going in our favor.

“My lieutenant bears a letter from Princess Miranna to your Queen. The princess was instructed to let her sister know how she fares. I assure you the letter is written by her hand, and it contains details that will show it was written yesterday.”

Nantilam's lieutenant took a few steps toward us, carrying a small scroll of parchment. There was silence as London stared distrustfully at the High Priestess, who waited expectantly for a Hytanican to likewise come forward.

“I admire your caution,” Nantilam stated, when none among us made a move. “All of you. But you will remain in the dark until you see what this parchment contains. If you are not to be the one who claims it, London, perhaps your friend will be.” Her eyes flicked briefly to Destari, who stood near London, before they shifted to Cannan. “Or maybe your captain?” At last, she focused on me. “Perchance
your Queen will come forward, if cowardice is all you men can muster.”

The tension following her challenge was intolerable, for I was the only person in the Hytanican party who had not been dealt an insult. Cannan and London, however, appeared impervious to her slight, for which I was thankful, and a glance between them resolved the issue.

Cannan stepped ahead, as Destari was assigned to me, and London, like the High Priestess, was fulfilling the role of negotiator. Every one of the captain's strides seemed to take longer than it should have, and stories of the enemy's cunning whirled through my mind, raising the specter that all was not as it seemed. But Cannan would not walk defenseless into an unstable situation—unless he had determined there was no other option. I examined the Cokyrians' faces, wondering if behind those inscrutable expressions there was deceit, trying to convince myself there was not. But when I came to Narian and thought of the tenderness and compassion I had discovered beneath his cold and detached manner, I knew this enemy could disguise anything.

The captain stopped about ten feet in front of us, waiting for the enemy soldier to close the gap. When she neared, he stretched out his hand to accept the scroll.

“Cannan, move!” London shouted, and the captain immediately stepped back, looking at him in alarm.

The Elite Guard leapt forward and hurled the dagger from his boot at the High Priestess's lieutenant. The dagger struck the hollow of her throat, and blood sprayed across Cannan's jerkin and face. She gasped, gurgled and clawed vainly at her neck before hunching forward and collapsing against him. Then something thudded to the ground at his feet—a dagger, brought for an assassination.

Cannan thrust the dying lieutenant away from him as
all hell broke loose. Destari, who was already at my side, dragged me away, everything happening so quickly that I didn't even have time to feel afraid. The Cokyrians charged, extracting weapons that had been concealed in every fold of clothing, and London and several others ran to meet them, though all the Hytanicans were presumably unarmed. Just before Destari shoved me in the direction of the horses, I saw Cannan pull a dagger from a sheath strapped to his forearm, and I could only assume the others had likewise kept weapons.

Destari literally threw me onto his horse then jumped up behind, shouting for guards to come to the aid of the Queen. I glanced back toward the fray and saw Cannan break free along with several others, returning to their mounts with haste. Our men rode for the bridge while arrows from our archers rained down on the enemy. The High Priestess and Narian retreated behind shields while I searched frantically for London, one of the few missing. I knew from Destari's hesitation that he was doing the same.

“Destari!” Cannan bellowed in reminder to the deputy captain.