Blackveil (72 page)

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Authors: Kristen Britain

Tags: #General, #Fiction, #fantasy, #Epic

BOOK: Blackveil
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But they hadn’t counted on Elgin. Or her Riders. Elgin believed her. Her Riders would believe her. She’d have to move carefully so the conspirators did not work to discredit her.
“Spane,” Laren said. “He started it, then Colin joined in. Destarion is the one who dosed my tea. And Colin said Harborough, with the army to back him, was in favor of it. I’m going to kill them.”
“The whole army?”
“You know what I mean. The conspirators. They went against protocol, against king’s law, and they didn’t want me to inform the lord-governors of it.”
“I see,” Elgin replied, “but the king was going to marry Lady Estora anyway, and this should help secure a smooth transition of power.”
“Oh, Chief, not you, too.”
“I’m not saying it’s right, at least in a legal sense. I’m sure Zachary will have a few things to say should the gods grant us his recovery. And it was certainly wrong of them to remove you from the process as they did. But what can you do? Gah, politics and intrigue. It’s why I didn’t want to come back.”
Laren’s shoulders sagged. “I don’t think I can do much, but there is a chance before she’s crowned—”
Elgin cleared his throat and looked out the window. “Too late, as of this morning.”
“What? They already held her coronation?”
“Yep. Before your Riders got sent out.”
“Those bastards. I
am
going to kill them. I guess the only thing left for me to do is register a formal complaint with the queen. She is now the law of the land.”
“That could be dangerous,” Elgin said.
“Estora has always been reasonable, but sudden power does have a way of changing people. Still, it’s a risk I’m willing to take.”
“I recommend you eat something first.” Master Destarion appeared in the doorway bearing a tray of food and drink. “You’ve missed a few meals and that’s adding to your weakness.”
Elgin sniffed at the fine aromas rising from the tray. Laren’s stomach roiled.
“I suppose the food’s dosed with whatever you gave me the other night in the tea.” Laren said, her voice full of venom.
“I regret the necessity of what we did,” Destarion said. He set the tray on a table. Laren was tempted to upend it and throw the dishes at him, but she figured it would only be another excuse for them to dose her well and good.
“There is nothing mixed in your food or drink, except whatever spices the kitchen staff use to make it taste better,” Destarion said.
She glowered at him.
“You do have the ability to check the truth of my words,” he said.
She did, and she reached for where her brooch usually was, but it was not clasped to her sleeping gown. Elgin, who knew what she wanted, fetched her shortcoat, but her emotions must have been strong enough that she did not require contact with the brooch to receive her answer.
True,
her special ability told her. Destarion had not lied about the food or drink. She took her shortcoat from Elgin, and touching the brooch only reinforced the first message.
So the items on the tray were safe. The knowledge did not, however, ameliorate her anger toward Destarion. As galling as it was that she must rely on him for information on the conditions of Zachary and Ben, her concern for the two overrode her personal feelings. “How is Zachary?”
“Feverish. This will be a difficult day.”
“And Ben?”
“Still unconscious.”
“He over-exerted his ability,” Laren said. “He could have killed himself.”
“That is what we believe, but we’ve no experience with this sort of thing—at least in our lifetimes. I’ve a couple of apprentices checking back through our archives to see if there is any mention of a similar case occurring in the past.”
“You will tell me if you find out anything about Ben’s condition, won’t you.” She’d made it a statement, not a question. She was curious to know just what the mender documents said about Riders, since so little Rider history had survived the ages. It hadn’t occurred to her before to search their archives. “It could help all Riders.”
Destarion bowed. “Of course. Now I suggest you eat, as our queen has been asking to speak with you, and decisions have to be made.”
“Decisions?” she murmured, but Destarion had already left.
“I thought he was one of the ones you were going to kill,” Elgin said.
“He was. Is. After he finds out what’s going on with Ben.”
 
After Laren ate and dressed, no one forbade her to leave the mending wing. She peered in at Ben who lay peacefully in bed. He looked only to be asleep, but when she called to him and shook his shoulder, he did not awaken.
She also saw Sperren reclined in a daybed in a sunny common room, where an apprentice mender read to him.
“Captain!” he called out. “I’ve a new hip, is it not wonderful?”
So wonderful that Zachary was in danger of dying because of that hip, and Ben remained unconscious.
“And we’ve a new queen! ” Sperren added. “It is a remarkable day.”
Laren ground her teeth. On her way out, she said to Elgin, “I’m going to kill him, too.”
“The carnage is going to be terrible.”
Elgin accompanied her all the way to the royal apartments. It wasn’t necessary, but she was grateful for his presence. In the course of two nights, it felt as though everyone else had turned against her.
The Weapons permitted her into the private portion of the apartments, leading her to Zachary’s dressing room. There she found Colin in consultation with Zachary’s secretary, Cummings. When she arrived, they stood.
“Captain,” Colin said, “so good to see you up and about so soon after your illness.”
“You are sticking to that story, are you? So if I make trouble it will be easier to convince everyone I’ve cracked?”
“I’m so sorry, Captain,” Colin replied. “But it was necessary. We will face the consequences if it comes to that.”
“By Zachary’s hand, or mine if he is not able, you will.”
Colin’s expression darkened. “I hardly think it helps matters to make threats.”
“I don’t make threats, Colin. You know that.”
“You may find yourself in a position, Captain, unable to do more.”
“Who is making threats now?” she murmured.
Colin lifted his chin but did not reply. Cummings excused himself, no doubt to escape the tension in the room. Elgin remained solidly by her side.
“When Zachary recovers,” Laren said, “I look forward to seeing him make you accountable.”
“I pray to the gods he does recover,” Colin said, “no matter what it may cost me.”
His demeanor had become very humble, remorseful, and his words rang with truth, even without her consulting her ability. She would never understand the Weapon mentality of
Death is honor.
It was even more astonishing to her that this man who had dedicated himself to Zachary, Zachary’s father, King Amigast, and his grandmother, Queen Isen, would betray Zachary in this manner. But then, Weapons were mysterious in their ways, and though it was never said overtly, more than being protectors of the royal family and the royal dead, their directive was to guard the kingdom more than the person who ruled the kingdom. Did they construe that directive to mean they could initiate a coup if they deemed it necessary? If Zachary did recover, they needed to have a serious talk.
“Destarion told me,” Laren said, “that Lady ...
Queen
Estora asked to see me.”
“Yes, Captain, but I wish to be forthright and warn you there has been a good deal of discussion about you.”
“Really.”
Colin nodded. “It is under consideration that you be relieved of duty, at least temporarily.”
“What?”
It was Elgin who bellowed out the word. Laren was not surprised.
“At this crucial time,” Colin explained, “we need all of us to be in accord regarding our new queen. We are unsure of your absolute loyalty and we cannot judge your honesty in the same way your ability allows you to judge us. However, we also understand you cannot leave the service voluntarily or under coercion due to the properties of your brooch. Therefore, suspension of duty may be the preferred alternative.”
“After all my years of service?”
“It pains me,” Colin said. “I know how dedicated you are to Zachary and the realm. It is nothing personal, of course.”
Of course not. It was political expediency. There were, Laren knew, other ways to silence her that were far less gentle than suspension. Would her continued resistance force them to resort to other measures? They were quite capable of concealing anything they did to her. There would be lies about her whereabouts. They’d inform interested parties she was not favored by the queen.
“Because I wanted to follow legal protocol you are suspending me?” she asked, her soft tone only underscoring her contempt.
“It is not for me to determine,” Colin replied. “It’s the queen’s decision. Naturally we hope she will express confidence in you, and you will accept all that has come to pass.”
“Good gods,” Elgin muttered. “It’s Gwyer Warhein all over.”
“That was another time, a different situation,” Colin retorted.
Was it really so different? Laren wondered. Gwyer Warhein, captain of the Green Riders two hundred years ago, had been vilified by his king, the paranoid Agates Sealender, for the unspeakable crime of honesty; for telling truths the king hated hearing about himself and his reign. Warhein had been a reader of honesty, just as Laren was—she wore his brooch. It had come to her,
chosen
her, from across generations of Riders. She fingered it now, the gold smooth and cool to her touch. She tilted her head as she regarded Colin.
She had worked with him long enough to know he was no fool—far from it—and that he was well-versed in history. As much as he’d deny it, he’d see the parallels with the past—not only Laren telling truths he did not wish exposed, but how Warhein’s loyal Riders had rallied to him, had gone into exile with him, despite the threat of royal reprisal. Colin and his conspirators would have deduced that Laren’s Riders would do the same for her. Censuring her by any harsher means than suspension of duty would incur the wrath of her Riders, and the conspirators could not afford to lose them; they could not function without them.
Still, Laren reflected, it didn’t mean the conspirators wouldn’t hesitate to do what was necessary and expedient to silence her if she made too much trouble.
Despite the potential for danger to herself, she could not repress a smile, and the line between Colin’s brows deepened in response.
“Gwyer Warhein is considered a hero today,” she murmured as if to herself. Not only had he resisted a tyrant by telling the truth, but when old, unlamented Agates died without an heir and the realm plunged into the Clan Wars, Warhein and his Riders had helped Smidhe Hillander attain victory, bringing Zachary’s line to the throne, and initiating two centuries of peace and unification. Colin would know all this, too. He could not act without considering the weight of history.
Laren squared her shoulders and straightened her back, proud as ever of her Rider heritage and the brooch she wore. “Gwyer Warhein supported Clan Hillander,” she said. “And so have I. Always. And so will I continue to do.”
“So be it,” Colin replied. “Best not to keep the queen waiting.” He led the way to the bedchamber door and opened it for her, but blocked Elgin from entering.
“It’s all right,” she told her old friend, and she stepped into the room to face her new queen.
DECISIONS
S
unlight flowed into the room as Laren remembered it from the last time she’d been here. Estora stood there conferring with a mender. The light turned her skin to pale marble and her mourning clothes gray. Laren blinked as though confronted with a lifelike statue. Then Estora turned to her. Gems dazzled on the fillet crown she wore. Laren had last seen it upon the brow of Queen Isen as she lay in state at her funeral.
Estora dismissed the mender and approached. Laren dropped to her knee and bowed her head.

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