Red Madrassa: Algardis #1 (25 page)

Damian, Lord of the Windswept Isles and Guardian of the Port, stood just to the right of the Commander of the Imperial Guard‌—‌whole and alive. Finally, Maride did collapse. Sitara grabbed him about the waist and eased him to the floor, glaring daggers at the lord whom everyone had thought was long dead.

Damian swept forward‌—‌to talk to Maride, to console him perhaps. None of them were sure, as Allorna firmly stepped in front of him, her stance indicating that she was ready for a fight. Damian halted, not just because of Allorna’s fierce disposition, but also due to the restraining hand laid on his arm by the Commander. With a deep sigh, the Commander said, “Allorna, my daughter, you have always managed to attract so much…‌trouble.”

“
Daughter!
” Vedaris squawked indignantly. Everyone else ignored him.

“I think it’s time that we explained what has been going on,” said the Administrator of the Citadel, as he stood up and stepped out from behind his desk.

Thoth spoke up from the right side of the room: “It would be best if everyone grabbed a seat, then.” They each sat in an available chair, while Thoth perched on an open window ledge.

The Lord of the Windswept Isles sighed, then said, “I cannot tell you everything.” His gaze was directed at Maride as he continued, “But know that you were never in danger of being convicted of treason or murder, or hurt in the least way.”

He turned to the entire group. “The Empire has been fighting wars in the North. You know this, but only intellectually. For a long while, Sandrin has been shielded from the effects of these wars by both distance and natural barriers. But that war has now come to us.” He leaned forward and clasped his hands in front of him. “There was a targeted attempt on my life last fall, as well as on the lives of many of those closest to me.”

Vedaris frowned, wondering why assassins had chosen to target this particular minor lord. As if he had asked the question aloud, Damian rubbed his eyes tiredly and said, “I guard not only the main port into Sandrin, but also maintain the protective barrier over the city and its inhabitants. If my family falls, so too does that barrier.”

The Commander interrupted: “Twelve weeks ago, soon after the attack on Damian, we learned that an attack had been directed against, amongst others, Maride Bercen‌—‌his fiancé.” Maride paled but didn’t object to the narrative; Sitara held his hand tightly.

“It was at that point that I decided I needed to keep him safe, away from the possibility of another attack,” said Damian.

At that statement Allorna protested loudly, “By imprisoning him in a
tower
and accusing him of
murder
?!”

The Lord of the Windswept Isles said icily, “He was never formally charged with anything in court, and I gather that the only reason you knew of his imprisonment was because you read your father’s correspondence.”

Allorna shifted guilty in her seat. Maride said quietly to his friends, “I…‌was never interrogated. Just questioned, really, and told that I had stay in the tower.” He looked uncertainly at his fiancé. “Books were brought every day.”

“So your accommodations were nice,” commented Vedaris sarcastically. “It’s still wrong. Drecking nobles.”

The Administrator said, “I’ll remind you to watch your tongue, Master Saracen. You’re still on thin ice here.”

Sidimo sighed, sensing that all this was going nowhere, and asked, “And what about the Imperial guardsman?”

The Commander of the Royal Guard said stiffly, “We knew of your journey here about two days after you made it.” At this, he turned his eyes to Allorna, who cringed in embarrassment‌—‌whether due to the tower break-out, or the fact that she hadn’t alerted her father to her whereabouts, her friends weren’t sure.

The Commander continued, “I dispatched an Imperial Watchman to keep an eye on all of you and send for me if anything
else
went awry.” Noticing his dry tone, the five youths all shifted in their seats, even Vedaris and Sitara, who were no doubt thinking of their own unconventional methods of arrival.

“So what happened to him?” questioned Sitara.

“That is not up for discussion,” said the Duke of Carne sternly.

“But we
are
grateful for your timely intervention,” responded Thoth. The students looked like they wanted to protest, but the conversation was clearly over. Sitara, at least, wanted to leave before it segued into why they were outside the Citadel grounds in the first place. She couldn’t remember if that was against the rules in the handbook or not.

The Commander said, “Yes, it’s getting late. You’ll be updated on the watchman’s health, but know that your extraordinary skills saved a man’s life today.”

The Duke of Carne, the Administrator of the Citadel, and the Lord of the Windswept Isles all nodded solemnly. Vedaris looked like he was about to roll his eyes, but Maride pinched him before he could.

The Commander noted, “You’re all dismissed back to the Marsea Gatehouse. Allorna, stay behind.”

Damian gestured hurriedly to Maride as they all stood. “If you have a moment, I would like to discuss this,” he said.

Maride opened his mouth and then closed it mulishly. After a long moment, he said in a low voice, “If you don’t mind, milord, I need some time to think.” He turned away, and then turned back to say, “As long as I’m not under arrest?”

The lord sighed, but all he said was, “All charges have been dropped, and nothing was filed beyond that.”

“Thank you, milord,” responded Maride as he quietly slipped out of the Administrator’s office alongside Vedaris, Sidimo, and Sitara.

Sidimo looked behind him at Allorna, and noted that she and her father were following them out. They diverged off toward the courtyard, however, as the other four youths walked toward the gatehouse.

As Allorna walked by her father’s side, she remembered a day on a sandy beach just over a year ago, when they had also walked side-by-side.
I thought that day was bad…‌but today is bound to be worse
, she mused. Once they were surrounded by the hedges of a flowering garden her father‌—‌no, the Commander of the Imperial Guard‌—‌turned to face her.

He took a long moment, taking in her features while she stood ramrod straight. He could tell she wanted to shift uncomfortably under his gaze, but, he noted proudly, her training came through. “Allorna,” he began, “I…”

“Father,” she said, “Wait.” Her voice wavered as she continued; “I am so sorry. Sorry for disappointing you, and for disappointing the family. I’ve shamed us‌—‌shamed you as a guardian of the royal family, and as a citizen of Sandrin.” She stood shaking, not out of fear but out of inner turmoil.

“If you would let me finish my sentence, dear daughter,” said the Commander wryly, while pulling up her chin to meet her eyes, “I was going to say that I’ve never been more proud of you as a father.” Her eyes widened in surprise, but she remained silent. He continued with a gentle smile, “Yes, you broke every rule in the gardis handbook‌—‌but you did it to save a boy who truly needed you.”

They stood for a moment, the silence flowing between them as he paused to collect his thoughts. Finally he asked, “What have I always told you?”

Allorna recited from memory: “A true gardis trusts their instincts.”

“Yes, and that was precisely what you did. You trusted your instincts, and you were right: Maride was not a murderer. But you should have come to me first with your suspicions.”

She opened her mouth to interrupt, but the frown on his face halted whatever she had planned to say. “I may not have been able to confirm your doubts,” he said, “But I would have listened and acted in service of the realm.” Allorna nodded numbly.

“As the Commander of the Imperial Guard,” he continued, “I cannot and will not condone what you did. As such, I am withdrawing your bid for full traineeship under the tutelage of the Knights of the Realm. In a year, you may reapply as a junior candidate.”

Allorna paled, pursed her lips, and did not comment. She deserved far worse, and she knew it.

“In addition,” he continued, “Half of the pay from your student worker salary for the next year will be used to finance the debt incurred from the tower reconstruction.”

Allorna nodded her head, looking down at her feet. She whispered a “Yes, father,” when nothing more was forthcoming. She had thought she would be returning to Sandrin. As she stared down at her feet, contemplating the judgment, she couldn’t decide whether this new development was good or bad. Deciding there was nothing to do now but accept her fate, she straightened her shoulders and gave him a salute.

At that moment, a commotion sounded from inside the glass atrium where she and her friends had met for the first time two weeks ago. The doors swung open with an abrupt bang and gust of wind. Out strode two of Allorna’s worst nightmares. A young man walked in front at a fast clip, his leather boots striking the ground firmly and his blue cloak flapping in the wind. Behind him sashayed a woman with the curves of a goddess and the smirk of a trueborn bitch.

Allorna and her father stood staring at them both, Allorna thinking‌—‌but not voicing‌—‌a string of curses that would have made Vedaris proud. Her father’s face was unreadable as he took in the pair before them. When the young man had approached to within five steps of them, her father knelt on one knee. A half-second later, so did Allorna. The delay was unconscionable, but she begged the gods to forgive her and keep her from striking the boy. She refused to even think of him as a young man, before crown and country. As they knelt before him, the boy‌—‌who was only a year older than Allorna‌—‌and the woman stopped before them. All Allorna could see were shiny black leather boots and the cascading flow of a red silk dress. Her lip curled in distaste.

After a moment’s delay, Sebastian, the Prince of Sandrin, heir to the Empire, and pompous ass extraordinaire, motioned for his father’s Guard Commander and Allorna to rise as he said, “What, you haven’t been arrested yet?”

His question was clearly directed at Allorna. Before she could retort in a way improper for the royal guard, her father intervened. He said, with a touch of rebuke, “Allorna has been properly punished, Your Highness, rest assured.”

At the statement from the Commander, the Prince turned his coldly assuming eyes from Allorna to her father.

Allorna almost smirked, as the Prince had to look up at her father. He’d had a growth spurt over the past summer, but it wasn’t enough to outweigh the impressive height and stature of the Commander of the Imperial Guard. She could see that the height difference annoyed the Prince…‌and anything that annoyed Sebastian made Allorna just a tiny bit gleeful.

Prince Sebastian, aware of her countenance but unable to say anything in front of a man so revered, responded coolly, “And what, my lord, would that punishment entail?” Allorna straightened her shoulders, prepared for her father to recount the humiliation of losing her training opportunity with the Knights of the Realm.

In a way, the preparation had been good‌—‌but it wasn’t enough in this instance. The Commander of the Imperial Guard stared straight into the eyes of the Prince, ignoring the companion beside him, as he said, “As you attend the Madrassa, milord, it is only fitting that Allorna learn true subservience to the Crown and Imperial mandate. She will assume squire duties for Your Royal Highness effective immediately.”

Allorna’s mouth dropped, the Prince turned as white as a sheet, and even the companion
had the grace to look panicked. The Imperial Commander continued before protests could erupt: “The lady,” he said with a nod of his head to the woman in the red dress, “will return to the capital for the duration.”

Allorna closed her eyes in horror. Her father could not have thought of a better punishment.

Thank You

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Red Madrassa
. I hope you enjoyed it!

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Red Madrassa
is the first novel in the Algardis Series. Find out what’s next, or sign up for updates at http://www.teedun.com. You can also turn the page to get a sneak peak at the next book in the series,
Casbah Guardian
.

Sneak Peak: Casbah Guardian