Allegiance (38 page)

“Narian,” I urgently said, wishing I hadn't overwhelmed him, but this time when I reached out to touch his hair, he took my hand, entwining his fingers with mine.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, eyes half-closed, voice anguished. “I'm so sorry, Alera. I would not blame you if you hated me, after everything I've done.”

“Let me tell you what you've done,” I said, fighting to subdue the quaver in my voice. “You saved my sister. You did what you could to protect my people. You freed London from the High Priestess's temple. You saved my life. You defied the Overlord, in the end. Those are the things you've done.”

“You give me too much credit,” he said with a weak laugh, intense blue eyes capturing me. “There are things I should have done, should have prevented, and didn't.”

I couldn't respond, could no longer see him through the tears clouding my vision, for he was feeling another type of pain—pain of a sort even the High Priestess could not lessen. But when I at last blinked my tears away, he had slipped from me once more.

 

I signed the High Priestess's accord the following day. It had been drafted by a high-ranking Cokyrian officer at Nantilam's dictation, and both Cannan and I read it carefully, knowing the moment I put my name on the parchment, Hytanica would be in my hands. Then I scrawled my signature across the bottom.

The captain returned to the cave, for the rest of our party of refugees had been in the dark for long enough and it was now safe for them to come out of hiding. As I waited for their return, I walked into the Throne Room for the first time since I had come back to the palace, wanting to see the damage before anyone else did. I advanced to the middle of the hall, then sank to the floor, needing to grieve what we had lost before I could embrace the future.

The Cokyrians had dragged the thrones to the floor, removing most of the jewels that had been mounted into the wood. My family's coat of arms lay broken against the stone, having been pulled from the wall behind the dais. The banners that had hung upon the wall had been burned. But most wrenching of all, the portraits of the Kings that had lined the sides of this mighty hall had been damaged, some beyond recognition.

This was Hytanica's history, my history, so treasured by us and treated so lightly by the enemy. Could I repair the hearts and minds of my people? Could we ever live contentedly under Cokyrian rule? I knew that the terms the High Priestess had imposed permitted a far better outcome than
we had the right to expect, for it granted us some autonomy, but still it would be challenging for those who had lost so much to see it as a positive step.

I did not hear Cannan come through the doorway, but he drew my attention by clearing his throat.

“Everyone is here, Alera. They're all waiting for you in the Meeting Hall.”

I stood and walked toward him, and he gave me a slight bow as I drew near.

“Things can be restored,” he said, eyes flicking around the room. “I will never forget the Overlord's brutality, can never forget it. I will live with its reminders for the rest of my days. But still I appreciate the chance the High Priestess has given us, and I believe you have made the right decision. We have lost much, Alera, and we will mourn much, but then we will rebuild. We will do so in honor of those who gave their lives.”

That evening, after we had all dined together on fare provided by the High Priestess, it was Steldor to whom I needed to speak. I was happy to see that most of his energy had returned in the week since I'd last seen him and that there was once more a passion for life within his dark eyes. We walked together to the Queen's Drawing Room, a place that would afford us privacy and had not been as heavily damaged as the other rooms on the first floor, leaving our friends and family to their rejoicing.

Looking out into the East Courtyard, at the fountain that had miraculously remained intact despite the upturned soil and thousands of rough boot prints that surrounded it, I explained the High Priestess's contract to him, hoping he would not view me as usurping his power. He stood beside me at the window, listening carefully to my words, but displaying no reaction until several minutes after I had finished.

“I did not return here expecting to be King, Alera,” he at long last said, and while he did not smile, there was no anger in him either.

“You'll always be a king,” I reminded him, for that was Hytanican tradition.
Once a king, always a king.

“Take my word—the crown fits you better than it ever fit me.” At my confused and anxious expression, he went on. “I'm a military man, Alera. I was meant to be the protector, not the protected. I'm happier in that capacity.”

His eyes delved into mine, suddenly tender, and I knew there was more he intended to say.

“Halias told us what happened in the clearing. I am sorry for what you had to bear—by rights, it should have been me. And Narian…while certain things will never be forgotten, I will thank him for what he did, at the end.”

He reached out to twirl a strand of my shortened hair around his finger, an affectionate gesture he had employed many times before, then stopped, looking at his hand.

“I suppose I should give you this,” he mused, removing the royal ring and extending it to me.

“And I have something of yours,” I returned, taking the signet from him and removing the wolf's head talisman from around my neck.

“I wondered what had happened to it,” he said, bemused. “Thank you.”

He examined the pendant for a moment, then pulled the betrothal band off his left hand, pressing it into my palm. Startled, I tried to speak, but he placed a finger over my lips, halting my words.

“Ours was a marriage of convenience,” he reminded me, although there was sadness in his voice. “It's not convenient anymore, is it?”

He brushed my cheek, savoring this moment, then turned and walked away.

“But…how?” I stammered, quite bewildered.

He was partway across the room and came about to face me one last time, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

“It's funny, actually. The one line I would not cross in our marriage, the one way in which I always showed you respect, is the key to its undoing. We never shared a bed, we never consummated our union. And consummation is one of the church's requirements for a valid marriage. I will see to its annulment as soon as the priest returns to the city.”

A flood of emotions welled within me as I studied his handsome face—surprise, relief, elation, regret—and, underneath it all, gratitude. He didn't have to do this, didn't have to admit we had not coupled, could even yet take me if he wanted. But instead he was letting me go. He loved me—perhaps this was proof of that beyond all else—and he was letting me go. Before I could say a word, thank him, wish him well, he had disappeared into the corridor, closing the door softly behind him.

THE PEOPLE NEEDED TO BE BROUGHT BACK. The very next morning, Cannan and Steldor, as Captain of the Guard and the man the populace thought of as their King, set out on this task. No one had any objection, since they were the only ones who would be able to convince our citizens it was safe, and with Halias now in the palace, Cannan could use him to safeguard London.

During the time they were gone, Cokyrian soldiers, under the command of the High Priestess, began to clear the rubble from the city in preparation for restoring and rebuilding. It was mid-March, and just as spring sunshine worked to rejuvenate our lands after the harshness of winter, hope emerged from the desolation that had gripped everyone's hearts and minds.

Work had also begun in the palace, and I could see the character of our once beautiful home returning. My father, who had been treating me more deferentially, wanted to be involved, and I gladly offered his assistance to the High Priestess. She, in turn, soon had him working side by side with one of the women in charge of the effort. Seeing the
graying, very traditional former King of Hytanica consulting with a young female Cokyrian military officer renewed my faith that the impossible could be achieved.

Temerson was also eager to help as he awaited the return of his family. He had seen his father die at the hands of the Overlord but had reason to believe his mother, Lady Tanda, as well as his brother and sisters, had survived. My father was quite willing to have his assistance, and so Temerson likewise became involved in the work of restoring the palace. The young man, of course, continued to spend many hours with Miranna, who was slowly recovering under the primary care of our mother. The two women seemed to have formed an even more special bond, born out of their experiences at the hands of the Overlord. Having had just one taste of what they had probably gone through, I was glad they could help each other deal with the memories and the aftermath.

It was at this time that I moved back into the quarters I had shared, in what had certainly been a different life, with Steldor. Although the Cokyrians had made their mark on these rooms just as they had with most of the other important areas of the palace, this section had been among the first to be repaired. It felt strange to be back within the living space that had been used by Hytanica's Kings and Queens for generations, knowing that the monarchy was no more. As with the Throne Room, the walls echoed with memories, and the air was thick with sadness.

The transition back to these rooms would have been much harder to bear had it not been for one thing. To my utter astonishment, I was joined the first evening by a lanky, gray-and-black tabby cat with a white stomach and paws. Although he kept his distance, watching me from across the room, his coloring and curious gray eyes confirmed that it
was Kitten. With all the death and destruction, the survival of a cat was perhaps a small thing, but it felt like an extraordinary gift, helping to connect the past and the present. I sat motionless on the sofa for quite some time, deliberately ignoring my visitor, and the animal gradually moved closer. When Kitten jumped on the cushion next to me, I held as still as possible, barely breathing, letting him examine me and remember me. I could not, however, withhold a smile when he stepped onto my knees, finally settling into my lap. After a few minutes, I permitted myself to stroke his soft fur, and his answering purr was enormously comforting. I would not be living alone after all.

It took days, but slowly our citizens returned to their homes, or what was left of them. Galen, who had been sent by Cannan to oversee the evacuation, brought Tiersia back with him, both of them irrepressibly happy to be together. He had also found his mother and twin sisters, and took time resettling the four women back into their family home, upon which little damage had been inflicted. Cannan brought Faramay to live in the palace for the time being, probably concerned that the chaos that still existed in the city would shatter her mind. But it was Steldor who still searched for someone. Unbeknownst to Cannan, his son had been watching for a particular member of their family as they'd ridden the line of people.

“Have you seen Baelic?” he asked as he strode into the palace, encountering me in the Grand Entry.

I blanched, realizing he did not know about his uncle's death; with everything that had been happening, the terrible truth had not yet been revealed. Before I could form a reply, Cannan walked out of the antechamber, and Steldor redirected his question.

“I haven't been able to find Baelic,” he repeated, a frown
creasing his brow. There was a trace of trepidation in his voice, for it was possible that anyone had died in the fighting, but there was no way he could have been prepared for what Cannan would tell him.

“Steldor, come with me for a moment,” the captain said, reaching for his son's arm, but his tone was too gentle, too sympathetic, and Steldor, suddenly knowing, jerked away.

“What happened?” the younger man demanded, his breathing picking up. “Where is he? Tell me now!”

His temper was taking over for his fear and dread, but Cannan handled it calmly.

“Just come with me, and I'll explain everything.” When his son did not look at him, he added, “Steldor, you have to hear this.”

“Don't tell me he's dead,” Steldor said, but it came out as a plea. “Don't tell me that, don't tell me he's dead.”

Cannan didn't answer but put a hand on his son's back to guide him into his former office. I climbed the Grand Staircase, unable to stay in the entry, hating what Steldor was about to hear, remembering what it had felt like, knowing it would hurt him many times more than it had hurt me. I went all the way to the third floor and stepped into London's room, moving to sit at his bedside. Halias went into the corridor, thankful for a break.

Sitting with London was almost like being alone, but I could be near him and pretend he was there with me in more than body. The pain no longer tormented him, and he slept more or less peacefully, but still he would not rouse. The High Priestess visited him every day, but there was little more she could do for him. Physically, he seemed to have recovered, but his mind had, thus far, refused to come back. I tried to spend time with him every day as well, and would
often read aloud, hoping the sound of my voice might draw him to consciousness.

It was several hours later that a knock on the door disturbed me. I did not answer, knowing that silence in this case was an invitation. I heard the door open, expecting to be joined at London's bedside, but when the visitor did not come all the way into the room, I turned and glanced behind. After everything I had learned from Destari, my mother and London himself, I perhaps should not have been surprised, but nonetheless I sprang to my feet, mouth open slightly but unable to form words.

“I…I heard he was unwell, Your Highness,” Lady Tanda said, giving a curtsey.

When her eyes came back to mine, I saw in them the end of her thought:
I couldn't go to him the last time.
Her husband had died at the Overlord's hands, a tragedy to be sure, but in its wake she had been released, much as I would have been had Steldor died.

“Forgive me,” she muttered, turning to leave, probably thinking I knew nothing of her history with London.

“Lady Tanda, wait, please.” She stopped, and her soft brown eyes connected with mine. “You should stay with him. I've been here long enough—I really must go, and he should not be left alone.”

“No,” she replied, a touch of melancholy in her voice. “I just wanted to find out how he is doing.” She glanced away from me, then finished, “He saved my son's life, and I cannot expect more of him. I don't think he would want me to stay.”

“He is not awake.” I stood and approached her, placing a hand upon her arm. “In all this time, he has not awoken. He needs someone, Tanda. Perhaps you are that someone.”

She gazed at me with uncertainty and regret, but there
was love for London as well, even after all these years. She nodded, taking the chair at his bedside while I stole into the hall.

It was for her that he finally opened his eyes.

 

Narian was back on his feet, and the High Priestess appointed him as the official liaison between Cokyri and its new Province of Hytanica. This placed him in Hytanica indefinitely, with occasional trips to the land where he had been raised. In truth, he was ideally suited to the position, since he bore ties of loyalty to both countries, but I knew he had reservations because he had not had a chance to get my opinion on the matter. It would have been awkward for him to do so, however, as the High Priestess had not yet departed for Cokyri and did not know the full extent of his history with me.

I couldn't help but notice that Narian was rarely to be found within the palace. He had chosen to base himself out of the building formerly used by Marcail, the Master at Arms, another of the officers who had died at the hands of the Overlord. It was possible, of course, that his duties gave him little reason to be at the palace; more likely, he felt his presence at this point in time would be unwelcome.

The work of repairing and rebuilding our city had begun, and I was thankful to have Cannan at my side. With my thoughts and feelings in so much turmoil and a total lack of knowledge about how to run a province, I would otherwise have been a miserable failure. I was content to let him take over much of the work, though I knew he would gradually turn decisions over to me as he guided me toward becoming a leader.

By the end of the month, Narian had taken over command of the Cokyrian troops, paving the way for the High
Priestess's forthcoming departure. He had begun to move out some of the occupying soldiers and would eventually reduce their numbers until his force roughly equaled that of our disbanded City Guard and military. As each soldier left, I felt a tiny weight lift from my mind, as did for the captain, I believed. But while Cannan lauded the troop withdrawal, it remained difficult for him to work with Narian. I doubted that he would ever be able to look at the Cokyrian commander without seeing and remembering the younger brother he had dearly loved and whose life the captain on some level believed Narian should have saved.

London was also up and about. For the time being, he had a need to be outside and physically occupied, and Halias had thus stepped into the role of my bodyguard. Although London's customary wit had returned along with his energy, he still had a long road to emotional recovery. I would on occasion see him with Lady Tanda and knew she was the person who was doing the most to help him.

 

It was early April when genuinely good news came at last: Miranna and Temerson were betrothed. My father had wholeheartedly given permission for his seventeen-year-old daughter to marry the young man who had recently turned eighteen and was, therefore, of age to inherit his father's holdings and title.

It was heartening to see the change this event had on Miranna. With something on which to concentrate, she seemed to find herself once more, though she had been through too much to ever return to the naïve, bouncy girl she had been. Now her personality was more restrained, but if ever she came close to being her previous self, it was when she gazed into Temerson's eyes or held his hand. Planning for the wedding also gave my mother, Miranna and me a chance
to reconnect. My life had become so busy that seeing friends and even family was increasingly problematic, so I rejoiced that we had this time together.

The High Priestess returned to Cokyri two weeks before Miranna's wedding. Just prior to her departure, she had a meeting with Narian and me in the palace to discuss the status of the province. I could tell from her manner that she suspected Narian's relationship with me had gone past mere friendship; I could tell from his that he did not want her to know to what extent it had.

In the course of our discussion, Nantilam informed me of my new title, Grand Provost Alera; she also dictated that the Palace of Hytanica be referred to as the Bastion. Finally, she decreed that London once more become my bodyguard, leaving Narian to make the reassignment as soon as feasible after my sister's wedding. I had the impression she felt this would provide London with the rest he still needed. I also had the impression she did not trust leaving him to his own devices. In any case, it would place him within Narian's purview.

 

Miranna and Temerson were married on a lovely May afternoon shortly after my nineteenth birthday, when the weather was still fresh and not overly hot. The event was held in the palace garden, which had been restored as much as possible, although it did not have near the splendor of its previous days. Still, just being in my once-treasured sanctuary was a boon to my spirits, as well as to those of everyone else in attendance.

My parents gave Miranna away, and I stood in as her lady-in-waiting. Lady Tanda and one of Temerson's uncles stood with the groom, and his younger brother served as best
man. The ceremony was simple but beautiful and helped to reaffirm that life was moving forward.

After a dinner in the King's Dining Hall on the second floor of the palace, the blissfully wedded couple and their guests adjourned to the Royal Ballroom to continue the revelry. The party would go well into the evening, for entertainment was plentiful, wine was flowing and the dancing of the guests was more than congratulatory. This marked the first celebration since the Cokyrian siege, and though many lives were still in shambles, hope ran high with the knowledge that we had been given the opportunity to pick up the pieces.

As I walked around the ballroom, I saw Galen and Tiersia in each other's arms on the dance floor; my parents conversing with Baron Koranis and Baroness Alantonya, Narian's birth parents, with whom he hoped to forge some sort of relationship; Cannan and Faramay with Baelic's wife, Lania, and their oldest daughters; and a group of my friends that included Reveina and Kalem, both widowed by the war, and Galen's twin sisters, Niani and Nadeja. One person was noticeably absent, however, as London was not among the guests. While that seemed odd, I wondered if he had stayed away because he did not know if, or how, he fit into Temerson's family and wanted to avoid any awkwardness for Lady Tanda.