Allegiance (26 page)

A second man fell into Steldor, who without thought grabbed his collar and threw him aside, but never once did my husband's hand relinquish mine. At last we entered the Hall of Kings, hurrying on to Cannan's office, where the captain and his high-ranking Elite Guards had congregated.

“I have her,” Steldor announced, slamming the door behind us and muffling the ceaseless noise.

“Good,” Cannan said from behind his desk, motioning for us to take seats. “Galen?”

“I didn't see him. He's here somewhere, though. He'll find us.”

Right on cue, the Sergeant at Arms hurtled through the door, Steldor drawing me out of the way just in time to avoid a crash, and I sank gratefully into a chair. Galen was panting and sweaty, a state that was prevalent in most of the men around me.

“It's mad out there, sir. They're killing each other—we don't even need the Cokyrians for that.”

“We're doing our best to keep order,” Cannan replied without elaboration. “In the meantime, now that both the King and Queen are here, we have some decisions to make.”

“Is there anything more to be done in our defense, sir?” It was Casimir who had spoken, one of the six deputy captains in the room.

Cannan stood and answered bluntly. “We're trapped, men. The enemy has the city, and before long they'll have the palace, as well—”

“They've broken onto the grounds.” My bodyguard, the only deputy captain who had been absent, had somehow stepped unnoticed into the room. Everyone took in his somber demeanor without comment. “They're inside the Central Courtyard. The soldiers that were defending the walls are either dead or have given up arms. It's over.”

Cannan's jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but he showed no other reaction. “Are they trying to breach the doors?”

“No, sir,” Destari answered, then rubbed the back of his neck as if it were stiff. “They're celebrating. They're waiting.”

Understanding came easily to Cannan, but he spoke his conclusion aloud regardless. “He's coming.”

Destari nodded, and a stoic expression formed on every face in the room except for mine, which was fraught with
terror. Steldor moved to stand next to my chair, and I took his hand, clutching it as though it alone would keep me sane.

“Narian has departed for Cokyri,” Destari said, sounding like a man who has had no choice but to accept fate. “The siege is over, and the Overlord wants to see the very moment of our defeat with his own eyes. Narian will tell him it is time.”

So this was it: the end at last.

 

There was a welcome lull that night. The people had not been told what was happening, which seemed kinder and prevented panic from shattering the fragile order Cannan had established. I stayed in the captain's office while men came and went, including the captain himself, for it was the only place I could be without constant fear for my safety. Steldor showed me the small room located off the back of his father's office, encouraging me to use the bunk so I could get some sleep. The room was dark and uncluttered, and somehow peaceful, for the noise from elsewhere in the palace was muted here and so steady it might have been silence.

I dozed in a strange, dreamlike state, voices in my ears, snippets of conversation from the office that I did not want to understand, until finally it penetrated my brain that there was talk of taking the King and Queen from the palace. There was one escape tunnel that could still be used, the one that led north, outside the city. I lay in my borrowed bed, staring at the pitch-black ceiling, straining to hear.

“We're facing a mere matter of hours,” Cannan said, his tone low, but not soft enough for me to miss. “Keeping the two of you here is no longer an option.”

“There was fighting in the forest beyond the northern wall, sir.” I recognized Casimir's voice and knew that he,
and perhaps a few others, were present in the room with the captain and Steldor. “Do you think it's safe to take the royal family out where Cokyrian troops may still be positioned?”

“Arrange for scouts to sweep the area,” Cannan replied. “We need an idea of what we'll be facing. But ultimately, we'll have no choice but to take whatever risks are presented.”

I heard a door open and close, and assumed Casimir had gone.

“Sir, our plans to destroy—” I heard Destari's voice, though it was quickly interrupted by my husband.

“I'm not leaving,” Steldor said abruptly.

“The kingdom has fallen, Steldor,” Cannan countered “The only thing we may still be able to do is protect you and Alera.”

“Take Alera, take the former King and Queen, but I'm not leaving.”

A chair scraped, and I knew the captain had come to his feet.

“When the Overlord arrives, he will kill you. Do you understand that? And it will not be a quick or dignified death.”

“What is dignified about running away?” Steldor's voice had grown louder, reflecting the passion in his speech. “You say I am King and that you need to protect me, but even if I go, of what will I be King? There will be no kingdom to come back to.” There was a pause, and I could picture father and son staring at each other. Then Steldor, equally determined, made his judgment known. “I die with my people.”

Another silence ensued, then Cannan dropped the issue. “We'll discuss it when the scouts return. Destari, your report?”

I recalled that the Elite Guard had been speaking at the time Steldor had begun to argue with his father.

“Sir, I was considering our crisis strategy. If there is a way for a few men to reach the targets, now would be the time.”

“You're right,” Cannan said, and I heard him retake his seat. “However, it would be a gamble sending men out the door at this point. The palace is surrounded, and the city is swarming with enemy soldiers. As much as I would like to take some of the sweetness out of the Cokyrians' victory, I need to devote my men and my deputy captains to other matters. I cannot send soldiers on such a dangerous mission when it is not absolutely necessary.”

“Yes, sir.”

There was a slight commotion in the hallway, and the sound of the door opening and closing a second time told me that the brawny guard had gone to check on its cause.

No one spoke, leading me to believe that only Steldor and his father remained. When the silence continued, I rose from bed and padded on bare feet to the door, pushing it open the tiniest bit so I could peek into the office.

Steldor had moved to the padded armchair in the far corner, his head resting against its back, his eyes still open despite his obvious need for sleep. Cannan was, as I had guessed, seated behind his desk, but his gaze was on his son. I could not decipher what he was thinking, what anyone responsible for the safety of so many would be thinking.

“You should sleep,” the captain finally said, but Steldor did not respond. Cannan did not address him again but waited patiently for him to share what was on his mind. When Steldor finally did speak, his voice was strained.

“Father, what will happen to us?”

Cannan took a moment, and I could see his jaw clench; then he answered.

“When the Overlord comes, he will demand our surrender, and his terms will not be compassionate. He will torture and kill Hytanica's leaders—you, if you remain, Alera, if she is here. He may take Adrik and Elissia, to make an example. Beyond that…I do not know.”

My pulse raced at Cannan's words, and I thought the terror coursing through me might cause my heart to explode, granting me a kinder and less painful death than would torture. Steldor's chest rose and fell heavily several times while he considered his father's words, then he rolled his head to the side, so neither Cannan nor I could clearly see his face.

“You?”

The rest of the question was unspoken, but Cannan understood. He waited for his son to look at him, and the instant Steldor did, I knew that, for this moment, Hytanica's young King was done being brave.

“Yes.”

The word hit me almost as hard as it hit Steldor, and I stole back to lie once more on the bed, a strange ringing in my ears. How many would suffer a slow and agonizing death? Cannan had told me I had fortitude, but I did not have the fortitude to nobly face such an end. And how could my parents? In truth, how could anyone? At last I understood the reason for the myths surrounding the Overlord; at last I understood the reason for the fear and panic generated by the mere mention of his name.

THE FOLLOWING MORNING, FINDING MYSELF alone in the office, I ventured one last time out into the palace. While fear no longer permeated the air, it had been replaced by something worse—despair. Children begged to go home, while parents couldn't even assure them their homes were still standing. Families held each other close, spending what they viewed as their last hours in the arms of their loved ones.

I had not seen Steldor since I'd dozed back to sleep after his conversation with his father—he had vanished into the crowd, probably desperate for time alone to think. I doubted he would find it.

The scouts Cannan had sent to investigate our escape route had not, to my knowledge, returned. I wondered if—when—they did, my husband would indeed refuse to evacuate. I thought of all the people I would be leaving behind, family and friends whom I loved. Could I abandon them? The coward in me said yes, with certainty. Could I bear life without them? That was a harder question to answer.

I climbed the Grand Staircase to the second floor, which
was still bustling with activity, then stole through the door into my old quarters, where memories of my childhood and of Narian lurked. Nostalgia over years past, coupled with the knowledge that I might never walk the corridors of my home or set foot in this room again, would have brought unstoppable tears if I had allowed my mind that freedom to wander. And thoughts of Narian, the strong, brave, tender young man with whom I had fallen in love, juxtaposed against the dark entity I envisioned overtaking my homeland, would have shredded my sanity.

The suite of rooms, which had not been looted by the encroaching throng of people in light of the more readily accessible and spacious King's Dining Hall, was exactly as it had been before I'd moved to the King's and Queen's quarters. I walked through the parlor and into my old bedroom, noting that the personal things I had neglected to take with me—writing paper, childhood toys, books, an old hairbrush—were untouched, and I was filled with the urge to lay on the bare bed and pretend I was a little girl and that all was right with the world.

But I ignored these feelings, going toward the boarded-over balcony doors, then peering out the window to their right side and down into the West Courtyard. The trees and foliage were dead from the change of seasons, but I stared in horrified fascination at the assemblage of lively enemy soldiers, both men and women, moving about, laughing, drinking, feasting on food that had probably come from our stores in the city's main warehouse. Destari had been truthful when he'd said the Cokyrians were celebrating.

In more peaceful times, I would have been able to see past the city walls and into the fields beyond. But now a haze of smoke and dirt hung in the air, for which I was somewhat thankful, as I did not want to see the damage our own
troops had been forced to inflict on our lands in order to confound the enemy.

I pulled back when I realized that, had I come but a few hours earlier, I might have seen the bodies of some of our soldiers. Fighting had taken place in the courtyard, but by now it appeared the enemy had disposed of those who had fallen. Their bodies would never be claimed by grieving families, and many would never know for certain the fates of their loved ones. I sighed and gave in to the longing to lie down upon the bed, closing my eyes as though to close out the knowledge that I was a prisoner in my own home.

I awoke disoriented, my head nestled against someone's shoulder, and gradually became aware that I was being carried through the somewhat less hectic but still overcrowded corridors. Without even looking up, I knew in whose arms I was cradled, for his rich, musky scent and the manner of his walk were familiar. As Steldor maneuvered his way down the Grand Staircase, he noticed I had roused.

“I would be angry with you for disappearing on us,” he chided, “but I'm too happy to have found you unharmed.”

I nodded, not wanting to abandon the lethargic cocoon into which I had escaped. Without another word, he carried me into the captain's office, walking past the others who had gathered, to deposit me on the bunk Cannan had been permitting me to use. He left me to join the other men, and I rested for another moment. But when my sleep-induced stupor fell away, so did my desire to be alone, and I slipped into the office to sit on the floor against the near wall, drawing my knees to my chest.

Although there were no windows in Cannan's office, I knew from having passed through the Grand Entry that the sun had set, and that a second night in limbo stretched out before us. Activity around the palace had slowed as there
came to be less and less to do, yet the people were anxious and restive, eager to learn of our final plan, the secret way in which we would emerge triumphant from this tragic chaos, not knowing such a plan did not exist.

When the scouts returned that evening, after a much longer absence than Cannan had expected, their news was not reassuring. Despite being highly trained reconnaissance men, and even with the cover provided by the forest, they had encountered difficulty moving about on the other side of the city's northern wall. The enemy was everywhere and saw everything. Taking a woman, maybe two, through the forest and into the foothills would be near impossible, bordering on suicidal, and probably more risky than having my mother and me remain within the palace, adopting disguises to try to fit in with the populace.

“Damn it,” Cannan muttered in response. “You don't suppose they—”

“The tunnel's entrance wasn't specifically guarded, so I don't think it's been compromised, sir,” one of the scouts said. “And we did nothing to alert the Cokyrians to its existence.”

I couldn't help but wonder, knowing London had been a scout, if it were a common trait among them to interrupt their superior officers. At any rate, Cannan did not take offense, merely waving the three men out of his office, giving one of them an order to send his deputy captains to him.

“Will someone be taking them soon?” Steldor asked distantly, assuming his father's plan had not changed and sounding as though he were so exhausted he could scarcely concentrate. He moved to take up position in the padded armchair in the corner, once more leaning his head back.

“Yes. The exit may not look good, but we have no choice.
As soon as my deputy captains arrive, I'll arrange departure for all those who
should
go.”

I knew this pointed phrasing would not be lost on Steldor, but he did not react to it. He rubbed his eyes in an attempt to stay awake, but when he moved his hand, his lids stayed shut, and his head tipped to the side, body shutting down against the mind's resistance. Cannan watched him for a long time, and I imagined he was storing up memories, not knowing how much longer he would have with his son.

 

The deputy captains trailed in one after another, in the order the scout had located them, until there were six in total. Steldor did not awaken, and Cannan made no attempt to bring him round before addressing his most trusted men.

“Two of you will be escorting the Queen to the safe place as soon as possible. Davan, you will go with her—I want at least one Elite Guard who was formerly a scout to protect and guide her. Gather whatever supplies you may need. Where is Destari?”

“He has not yet been located, sir,” Halias replied.

“He should also accompany Queen Alera. If he is not found timely enough, you, Halias, will go in his stead.”

“Yes, sir.”

Cannan glanced at Steldor, still asleep in the chair.

“I'll try again to convince him to leave willingly. But if he will not, we'll take him by force—knock him out, if we have to.”

The deputy captains accepted this, undoubtedly having anticipated it.

“Davan, report back to my office when you are prepared. There's no time to waste. And if anyone sees Destari, send him—”

A great rumble overtook the palace, shaking its very foun
dation, stopping Cannan's words and jolting Steldor awake. The quake lasted only a few seconds, but there were shouts and screams from beyond the office doors long afterward.

“What was that?” the captain demanded, but he did not dismiss the men in the office to find out, knowing someone would come to inform him.

No more than a heartbeat later, a scout came bursting through the guardroom door.

“The armory, sir. At the Military Complex. It's…it's been demolished!”

“What?”

The captain was for once stunned. Steldor had gotten to his feet and everyone else had broken into harried discussion. I stayed on the floor, trying not to draw attention, for I wanted to know what was happening. Sudden realization came to Cannan.

“Find Destari,” he ordered, then his eyes connected with Steldor's. “The crisis strategy. He's the only one not among us who knew the plan.”

But at that moment, the supposed rogue guard walked through the door.

“You decided to go ahead with the plan after all, sir?” Destari asked, then he frowned as he took in the startled expressions of his fellow deputy captains. “Sir, what's going on?”

A second rumble, less fierce but still noticeable, shook the floor beneath us. Cannan grabbed the scout who had brought news of the armory by the collar and flung him toward the door.

“See if that was the infirmary. Go!”

The man hastily exited, and the captain turned back to the rest.

“I gave no orders for this strategy to be carried out. And
we alone should have been privy to its details. Did one of you coordinate this without my knowledge?”

“No, sir,” came the collective reply.

“Captain, the power of the explosions we're feeling—only the Cokyrians have the means to cause this type of destruction,” Halias said. “Although it makes no sense for them to take such action.”

“There are people at the Military Complex, Baelic, for one,” Steldor reminded everyone. “Intelligent men who might independently decide that such resources should not be turned over to the enemy. And they could have gotten access to the Cokyrians' explosive powder from a dead enemy soldier.”

“Both the armory and the infirmary, if that's what we felt, are at the Military Complex, so men there could have reached those targets,” Destari agreed, sounding a bit dubious. “But if the King's theory is correct, none of the other targets will be hit. It would be impossible.”

“We wait,” Cannan decisively replied.

The minutes passed in stony silence, then the scout rushed in to confirm that the infirmary had, indeed, been destroyed. Before anyone could respond, the largest tremor we had yet experienced tore through the palace, knocking objects to the floor and causing the men in the room to stumble in an effort to maintain their footing. Screams of true terror now echoed in the corridors.

“What the hell is going on?” Cannan shouted as he stormed from the office, and I jumped to my feet to follow him to the Grand Entry Hall, Steldor at my side. Destari also came, but the other guards stayed in the office, probably a little unsure of their commander at the moment.

As Cannan prepared to harass his soldiers for an expla
nation, a man from the floor above, where the windows provided a view, called to us.

“The mill and the main warehouse! Gone in one blow! The enemy is frantic!”

I could tell Destari's mind was working furiously, and evidently so could Cannan.

“Who?” he asked, and his dark eyes scrutinized the clouded visage of his deputy captain.

“Only one person who knew the plan is not with us. That same person would know how to use Cokyrian powder and might be able to move amongst the enemy undetected. I would say…it's London, sir.”

The captain scowled, caught between knowing this was impossible and realizing that the pieces fit.

“How can that be?” I said in a near whisper, not quite believing Destari's words, but desperately hoping he was correct, for the thought of London's return gave me irrational hope. No one answered me.

“Go to the stables,” Cannan at last directed. “If you're right, we need to bring London into the palace, and I suspect he's on his way to the final target.”

Destari nodded and set off. Cannan glanced at me, then took me by the arm to lead me back into his office, Steldor following.

Once the other deputy captains had been brought up to date, an irrepressible buzz filled the room while the men debated. As some pointed out, it was possible we would never know what was happening. Destari might leave and find no one; and it was all too easy to forget he might be going to his death. Danger abounded outside the mighty stone fortress that was our palace.

It was unspoken that those of us headed for the safety of the predetermined hiding place would await Destari's
return. If London were with him, he might have important information. If London were with him, everyone wanted to know how he had escaped a second time from Cokyri.

Then we felt it—the fourth explosion rippling the ground. I dropped my eyes to silently bid goodbye to the Royal Stables, praying no horses had been trapped inside but knowing it made sense to destroy the carriages and tack. I also said goodbye to my bittersweet memories, for it was in the stables that Narian had first spoken freely to me; and it was there I had told him of the tunnel, inadvertently paving the way for my sister's abduction.

With greater force even than the explosions, fear shook me as I let my mind touch on what the Overlord would do with Miranna now that everything was over. My heavy heart told me I would never see her again, that she could already be dead. I envisioned an even worse fate were she alive, for now that she had served her purpose, the Overlord might view her as part of his spoils of war and subject her to his whims.

Thirty minutes was all it took for Destari to reenter the captain's office, for the enemy was greatly distracted in the aftermath of the explosions. Miraculously, London came behind him through the door, Destari's cloak thrown over the Cokyrian uniform that he wore. He stepped to the side, guiding a young woman who tightly gripped his hand across the threshold. She wore black pants and a dark cloak in the manner of a Cokyrian woman, but there was no mistaking her identity.