White Star (28 page)

Orrin
took care to keep as silent as he could as he climbed down the tower. The dying leaves trembled and rustled with every move.

It was still dark when he reached the top of the privy. He waited a bit, hanging from the vines until he was certain it was empty. He stepped onto the roof, and grabbed the parcel of armor and gear he’d left there. He swung off the slate tiles, dangled by one hand, then lightly fell to the cobblestones.

“Took you long enough,” a voice said from the shadows. Cenwulf limped out of the darkness. “It was more than just talk you were doing.”

Orrin frowned. “You’ve been in there all night?”

Cenwulf nodded. “Told everyone I had the gripe. Must have been something I ate.”

“Thank you,” Orrin said.

“Come”— Cenwulf started to limp across the yard— “I’ll let you out the gate. No one back there this time of morning.”

Orrin followed, keeping an eye out for watchers. Cenwulf went to the gate, and pulled the bolt.

“Cenwulf, thank you. Watch over her for me, will you?”

“I’ll do that,” Cenwulf said. “But just who am I protecting her from? You, maybe?”

“Don’t trust the Archbishop any more than you trust me,” Orrin said.

“That’s a given.” Cenwulf pulled the gate open. “Actually, I might be willing to trust you a bit more.” He looked at Orrin as he scanned the alley. “Where are you off to now?”

“My men are outside the city, waiting,” Orrin said. “I’ve an audience with the Queen this morning.”

“Have a care, until then,” Cenwulf said softly. “There’s those who would kill you on sight and beg forgiveness later.”

“I’ll see to my own hide,” Orrin said grimly. “I’ve a pardon to claim, and a choice to make.” He slipped through the gate, looking both ways.

“A choice?” Cenwulf asked, but the alley was empty. Orrin was gone.

Cenwulf shook his head, and closed the gate, throwing the bolt firmly in place.

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Orrin
Blackhart had to grit his teeth as he handed his sword and dagger to the guard outside the throne room. His back itched at the idea, but none save her personal guard carried weapons in the Queen’s presence.

He strode through the double doors, stalking through the crowd, which melted out of his path. This day’s Court was for public petitions and requests, and the hallway was filled with people seeking audiences with the Queen or her advisers. The stares and whispers told him that word had spread of his appearance.

He’d taken care to wear his best this day, everything black, as suited his mood. Except for the old red cloak that flared out behind as he moved. Evie’s cloak. He wore it to remind himself of her love and her belief in his redemption.

Well he might be redeemed in her eyes, but that didn’t mean he was going to crawl and beg. He’d come to claim three things, and he’d leave here with two of them.

But he did try to erase the scowl from his face and replace it with something a bit more pleasant.

The Queen’s Herald had indicated that his was the first petition that would be called. Orrin suspected they weren’t pleased to see him, and wanted him gone as quickly as possible. Certainly that Lady Warder would not want the Scourge of Palins to linger anywhere close to her charge. Orrin had to give her credit for that. And truth be known, he didn’t want to tarry any longer than necessary.

He walked into the throne room, and admired its size. The last time he’d been there, he’d been more mindful of his chains than of his surroundings. It was impressive, to say the least.

The young Queen had made some changes. Light streamed through high windows. The throne was still in place, with a small table beside it where a pair of red gloves still lay. But they’d added chairs below the throne, apparently for her advisers. They probably appreciated it, especially when some windbag was presenting his case.

If those chairs were also between the Queen and a potential attacker, well so much the better. The Lady Warder Bethral had some sense, it seemed.

The sides of the room were lined with tables, crowded with scribes. Orrin raised an eyebrow over that one. Apparently Queen Gloriana actually thought she’d get some work done in these sessions. He wished her well in that regard.

The Herald and his assistants were circulating through the crowd. Orrin caught the eye of one, and was hustled into position as the guards started to enter the room.

The Herald tapped his staff on the floor three times. “All hail Her Majesty, Gloriana, by the grace of the Lord of Light and the Lady of Laughter, Queen and Chosen of Palins.”

Everyone sank to one knee.

The advisers came in procession first, to stand in front of their chairs. Orrin recognized a few of them, including Ezren Silvertongue, Lord Fael of Summerford, and two others whose names he didn’t know.

A fat man, clad in gaudy silken robes and leaning on a walking stick, appeared before one of the chairs. He stood there calmly, but Orrin could have sworn he hadn’t walked in with the others. He wasn’t the Archbishop, that was certain. This man had some intelligence behind his eyes. Besides, something about him reminded Orrin of Evelyn.

As if conscious of his gaze, the man turned his head, and his eyes narrowed as he met Orrin’s gaze. A mage . . . with rank . . . Was that Evelyn’s father?

The Lady Warder also had a chair, the one closest to the throne. The tall blonde wore a sword and a dagger, and he caught her scanning the room for the placement of her guards.

Orrin stiffened at the sight of the Archbishop walking in, puffed with his own importance, two acolytes behind him.

Then came the Queen, with Vembar. The young girl had his arm, and walked him to his chair, smiling at something he’d whispered to her. Vembar seemed well, for a man of his age, although Orrin could see that the Queen’s arm wasn’t linked with his for show.

The Queen settled Vembar in his chair, then mounted the dais and stood before her throne. With easy grace she sat down, her advisers settling down a moment later.

With a great rustle of cloth, the entire room rose to its feet.

“Good morning,” Queen Gloriana said. “My Lord Archbishop?”

The fat man struggled out of his chair and rose to address the crowd. “Let us give thanks. Lord of Light, give us the benefit of your wisdom and guidance this day. Let justice be served on the wicked and the righteous be rewarded for their honor. Let any falsehoods be seen for what they are, and truth be our only guide. Lord of Light, bless our Queen and our Kingdom with your holy light. Praise be given.”

“Praise be given,” the crowd responded.

“Lord Herald.” The Queen turned to him with a smile. “What is the first order of business?”

The Herald stepped forward. “Orrin Blackhart, late of the Black Hills, step forward and be heard.”

That drew a response from the crowd. A swell of talk rose behind him as Orrin stepped before the throne. His back itched fiercely, but he ignored it, and bowed to the Queen.

“Blackhart”— the young girl spoke, a frown on her face— “I never thought to see you again.”

“Certainly not alive,” Vembar added, his eyes bright with curiosity. The man was leaning forward in his chair. “What brings you here?”

“My Lord Vembar, you challenged me to rid the Black Hills of the odium.” Orrin let his voice ring out over the room. “I have done so, with the aid of the warriors of the Black Hills. I have come to claim my boon, as was promised.”

“Pah,” The Archbishop scowled. “How do we know that what you say is true, scum?”

Orrin fixed the man with a glare. “As proof, I offer the ring of the late High Baroness Elanore. Also, the sworn statement of one Dorne, High Priest of the Lady of Laughter. Further,” Orrin added dryly, “gems, from the vault of the Black Keep.”

One of the Herald’s assistants came forward to take the items from him, and brought them to the Lady Warder. Bethral opened the large leather bag, and rummaged in it. She gave the lad a nod, and he took the items to the Queen.

She removed the ring and a scroll from the bag, and raised an eyebrow as she held up a large emerald to the light. She studied the ring for a moment, then carefully unrolled the scroll and read it. “If this is true, you have done a service to the Kingdom, and I will honor my word.”

“Let me examine the scroll,” the mage spoke up. “I know Dorne’s hand.”

“Take this to the Lord High Mage.” Queen Gloriana handed the scroll to one of the assistants.

Evelyn’s father, then. Orrin flicked a glance over as the man unrolled the parchment and studied it.

“Gems can be stolen,” the Archbishop said, his jowls wobbling. “This is no proof.”

“Lord Fael, what do you know of this?” the Queen inquired.

“There have been no attacks on my border for weeks,” Lord Fael said grudgingly. “But that hardly means they are gone.”

“This is Dorne’s hand and seal,” Marlon announced.

Orrin frowned at that. Marlon knew Dorne?

“There is a rumor that the Lady High Priestess Evelyn was involved in this,” Ezren Silvertongue spoke up. “Is that true, Blackhart?”

“It is. Without her aid, we would be dead, and your Kingdom awash in monsters,” Orrin said.

“Nonsense,” the Archbishop sputtered. “You kidnapped her from the shrine she was tending—”

“I rescued her, you fat fool, and she aided the people of the Black Hills with her magics,” Orrin growled.

“What of my daughter, Eidam?” Marlon asked. “Let her speak for herself.”

Orrin darted a glance at Evelyn’s father. Lord High Mage Marlon’s eyes flicked over Orrin, and seemed to recognize the red cloak on his back. He raised an eyebrow, but said nothing further.

“She’s safe within the church, as you know, doing penance for the sake of her soul’s salvation.” The Archbishop glared at Orrin. “She broke the restrictions placed on her, and I—”

“How so, if this man kidnapped her?” Vembar asked.

The Archbishop shut up.

“It seems to me that we must hear from the Lady High Priestess herself,” Gloriana said. “Send for her.”

“My Queen,” the Archbishop protested.

“Now,” Gloriana said.

For a moment, Orrin thought the Archbishop would refuse the royal command. But finally, with a sullen gesture, he sent one of the acolytes off at a trot.

“We will set this matter aside, Blackhart, until the Lady High Priestess appears.” Gloriana gestured.

Orrin gave a half bow, and stepped back The Herald called the next matter, something to do with feral pigs roaming the common lands. Orrin listened with half an ear, as he waited and watched.

If looks could kill, he was certain that the Archbishop would soon have his head on a pike. The man was clearly angry, his face flushing up.

Evie’s father was also giving him the once-over, but there was no anger there. Only a keen interest that made Orrin nervous.

The Queen had moved on to another case. Orrin had to give her credit, she didn’t hesitate in her decisions, and she was consulting with her advisers and actually seemed to listen.

A stir in the back of the room brought his head around. Orrin’s throat closed when he caught sight of Evelyn, her head down, walking at the side of Priest Dominic.

She was dressed in the formal white robes of a high priestess, a glitter of white and gold. Orrin’s heart leaped to see her. Part of him ached to hold her again, if only for a moment.

Dominic and Evelyn approached the throne together, and bowed.

“Lady High Priestess Evelyn, we welcome you to our Court.” Gloriana sounded genuinely pleased. “You are well, Lady?”

Evelyn looked up. She nodded, but said nothing.

Gloriana stared, a puzzled look on her face. “Aunt Evie?”

“The Lady High Priestess is under a charge of silence as penance, Your Majesty.” Dominic’s voice was matter-of-fact. “She is forbidden to speak.”

Evelyn’s father snorted, muttering something under his breath.

“Surely that can be suspended for this interview,” Vembar suggested.

“No,” the Archbishop stated. There was a long silence, and he shifted in his chair. “For the sake of her immortal soul and her vows to this order.”

Vembar raised an eyebrow. “She can nod her head?”

The Archbishop puffed out a breath. “Yes, of course.”

“Lady High Priestess,” Gloriana said, “Orrin Blackhart is here before us this day, to claim his boon. He claims that he and his men have cleared the Black Hills of the odium. Were you with him, Lady?”

Evelyn nodded.

“Did you aid him, Lady?” Gloriana asked.

Evelyn nodded again.

“Are the odium destroyed?”

Evelyn looked at Orrin. It hurt to see the pain in her eyes.

“The Lady High Priestess collapsed from her wounds before the battle ended, your Majesty,” Orrin growled. “She cannot say what she did not see. She would not lie to you.”

Evelyn looked at the Queen, and nodded.

“You would, you bas—” the Archbishop growled.

“We do not think so.” Gloriana’s voice cut him off. “We believe you, Orrin Blackhart. We will hold to our pledged word. What boon do you ask of us?”

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Evelyn
looked at Orrin, her heart torn in fear.

Orrin stared back at her, his eyes filled with pain and determination. He gave her a slight smile, so weary and tired that she almost cried out.

“Blackhart?” Gloriana spoke again. “What boon do you ask of the Throne of Palins? Ask, and it shall be given.”

“A pardon for the men of the Black Hills, Your Majesty.”

Relief and pride flooded through Evelyn, even as her eyes filled with tears.

Gloriana’s eyes widened. “You surprise me, Blackhart.”

Orrin gave her a wry smile. “I’ve cleaned up a mess I helped create, Your Majesty, but only with the aid of the people of the Black Hills. It’s only right that they not be punished for the sins of their leaders.”

“So be it,” Gloriana said with a nod. “We will have it proclaimed throughout the land of Palins as swiftly as may be done.”

“Priest Dominic, escort the Lady High Priestess Evelyn back to her chambers immediately,” the Archbishop directed. “I will speak with you, Lady, upon my return.”