Wintertide (35 page)

She was in love with Hadrian.

The revelation was bitter, as it was clear he did not feel the same. In those last hours, the only words that passed his lips were ones of common comfort, the same encouragement anyone would give. He might care about her, but he did not love her. In one way, she found that a blessing, as every man who ever did had died. She could not bear to see Hadrian die as well. She concluded they would remain friends. Close friends, she hoped, but she would not endanger that friendship by admitting anything more. She wondered if somewhere Hilfred was watching her and laughing at the irony or crying in sympathy.

Still, it was not thoughts of Jasper or Hadrian that kept Arista walking the balcony that night. Another ghost stalked her troubled mind, whispering memories. Something was happening. She had felt it building ever since they pulled her from the prison. At first she assumed it was the lingering effect of starvation, a form of light-headedness affecting her senses. Now she realized it was more than that.

“…at Wintertide the Uli Vermar ends. They will come—without the horn everyone dies. Only you know now—only you can save…”

The words of Esrahaddon echoed in her head, but she could not understand what they meant.

What is the Uli Vermar? And who is coming?

Something had clearly happened. Somehow the world had changed on Wintertide. She could feel it. She could taste it. The air sizzled with the sensation. While she had known how to tap the natural power of the world, Arista was shocked to discover that the world could talk back, speaking to her in a language she did not fully understand. It came in subtle impressions, vague feelings she might have previously dismissed as imagination. All the signals spoke of a great shift. She, like every living thing in tune with the natural world, was aware of the change just as they were aware of the approaching dawn. Something about
this
Wintertide was different. Something rare, something old, something great had transpired. Her eyes looked to the northeast. It was there, hurtling toward them.

They are coming
.

“Anne said you were out here,” a voice startled her.

Arista spun to see Modina standing behind her. She wore a simple kirtle dress. Her arms folded across her chest, fending off the cold. She looked more like the girl Arista had first met in Dahlgren than an empress.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” Modina said.

Arista gathered herself and curtseyed as best she could. “Not at all, Your Eminence.”

Modina sighed. “Please don’t. I have enough people kissing the floor. I refuse to take it from you. And I’m sorry for taking so long to visit.”

“You are the empress—the
real
empress. I’m sure your time is limited. And because I am still the Ambassador of Melengar, I really should greet and address you properly.”

Modina frowned. “Perhaps, but can’t we skip the formalities when in private?”

“If that is your wish.”

“I wanted to let you know that we are officially allies now. I signed a preferred trade agreement and defense pact this morning with Alric.”

“That’s wonderful.” Arista smiled. “Although you’re putting me out of a job, by going over my head like that.”

“Can we go inside? It’s freezing out here.” Modina led the way back into Arista’s room.

In the dim light, Arista noticed something lying folded neatly on the bed.

“I was so worried about you,” Modina whispered as she unexpectedly hugged the princess, squeezing her tight. “And just so you know, I did visit you—nearly every night, you’ve just been asleep.”

“You saved my life, my brother, and my kingdom,” Arista replied, returning the embrace. “Do you really think I can feel slighted by you?”

Modina let go. “I’m sorry it took so long. I’m sorry that you had to stay in that…that…place. I didn’t save Deacon Thomas, and I didn’t save Hilfred. Perhaps if I had acted sooner…”

“Don’t,” Arista said, seeing the empress’s eyes watering. “You have nothing to apologize for.”

Modina wiped the tears and nodded. “I wanted to give you something…something special.” She walked to the bed and held up a familiar robe, which unfolded in shimmering cascades.

“Do you recognize it?”

Arista nodded.

“I can’t imagine there are two such robes in all the world. I think he would want you to have it, and so do I.”

***

Modina had just left Arista’s room and was passing Degan’s half-open door when he called out, “Hang on there!”

She pushed the door open and stood in the threshold, looking at him.

Tall and still very thin, he sat in bed propped against a bank of pillows. “My chamber pot needs emptying, and the room is starting to stink. Wanna get in here and take care of it?”

“I’m not the chambermaid,” Modina replied.

“Oh? Are you a nurse? Cause I’m still not feeling well. I could use some more food. Some beef would be nice—steak perhaps?”

“I’m not a nurse or scullery maid, either.”

Degan looked irritated. “What good are you, then? Listen, I just got out of the dungeon, and they literally starved me. I deserve some sympathy. I need more food.”

“If you want, I can walk you down to the kitchen and we can find something there.”

“You’re joking, right? Didn’t you just hear what I said? I’m sick, I’m weak. I’m not about to go rummaging around like a rodent.”

“You won’t regain your strength by sitting in bed.”

“I thought you said you weren’t the nurse. Listen, if you won’t bring it to me, find someone who will. Don’t you realize who I am?”

“You’re Degan Gaunt.”

“Yes, but do you know
who
I am?”

She looked at him, puzzled. “I’m sorry…I don’t kn—”

“Can you keep a secret?” he asked, leaning forward and speaking in a conspiratorial tone.

Modina nodded.

“As it turns out, I’m the Heir of Novron.” Modina feigned surprise and Gaunt grinned in reply. “I know—I was shocked, too. I only recently learned myself.”

“But I thought Empress Modina was the heir.”

“From what I heard, that’s just what the old regents wanted everyone to believe.”

“So, do you plan to overthrow the empress?”

“Don’t need to,” he said with a wink. “I heard she’s young and beautiful, so I figure I’ll just marry her. I also hear she’s popular too, so I can benefit from the goodwill she already has. See how smart that is?”

“What if she won’t marry you?”

“Hah! Why wouldn’t she? I’m the Heir of Novron. You can’t do no better than that.”

Modina noticed Gaunt looking her over more intently. His tongue licked his upper lip, sliding back and forth. “Say, you’re kinda pretty, you know that?” He glanced past her, into the hallway. “What do ya say you shut the door and slip on over here?” He patted the covers.

“I thought you were sick and feeble.”

“I said I was weak not feeble, and I’m not
that
weak. If you won’t get me something to eat, the least you can do is help warm my bed.”

“I don’t think that is the least I can do. Yes, I can definitely think of less.”

He furrowed his brow at her. “You know, I’m gonna be the emperor just as soon as I get well enough. You might want to be nicer to me. We can keep this thing going, even after the wedding. I expect I’ll have several
ladies in waiting
, if you know what I mean. I’ll be taking good care of them, too. This is your chance to get in early and be the first.”

“And what exactly does that mean?”

“Oh, you know. I take care of you. Give you a room here at the palace. See that you get some fine dresses. That kind of stuff.”

“I already have those things.”

“Sure, but you might not after I take over. This way you can make sure that your future is protected. So, what do you say?”

“Remarkably, I think I will pass.”

“Suit yourself.” Gaunt waved her away. “But hey, if you do see a maid, tell her to get her ass in here and get rid of this pot, okay?”

When Modina reached the stair, she met a gate soldier climbing up.

“Your Eminence.” He approached, bowed, and waited.

“Yes?” she asked.

“A man at the palace gate is requesting an audience.”

“What? Now?”

“Yes, Your Eminence. I told him it wasn’t possible.”

“It’s getting kind of late. Ask him to see the palace clerk in the morning.”

“I already told him that, but he says he and his family must leave at first light. They came for Wintertide, and he wanted to make one last attempt to see you before departing. He said you would know him.”

“Did he give you his name?”

“Yes, Russell Bothwick of Dahlgren.”

Modina lit up. “Where is he now?”

“I had him wait at the gate.”

When she lived in Dahlgren, the Bothwicks had been as close as family. They had taken her in after the death of her mother, and the excitement of seeing her old friends overtook Modina. She trotted down the stairs to the main entry, causing the guards to rush to open the huge double doors for her. Modina hurried into the snowy courtyard and regretted not bringing a cloak the moment she stepped outside. The night was dark, and as she crossed the courtyard toward the front gate, she realized she could have used a lantern as well. Seeing Russell and Lena was too good to be true. She would give them the finest suite in the palace and stay up all night reminiscing about old times…better times.

As she passed the stable, a voice close by said, “Thrace?”

She spun around and was surprised to find Royce there. “What are you doing out here? Come with me to the gate. The Bothwicks are here.”

“I want you to know I am very sorry about this,” Royce told her.

“About what?”

He had a sad expression in his eyes as one hand clamped over her mouth. She struggled for a moment, but it was over quickly. The last thing she heard was his voice whispering in her ear, “
I’m sorry
.”

***

The palace bell rang before dawn. Hadrian and the other residents of the third floor stepped into the hallway. Arista wore Esrahaddon’s glimmering robe, and Degan Gaunt yawned while clutching a blanket around his shoulders.

Amilia and Breckton led a troop of guards into the corridor.

“Have any of you seen the empress?”

“Not since last night,” Arista said.

“What’s going on?” Gaunt grumbled irritably. This was the first time Hadrian had seen him since the dungeon.

“The empress is missing,” Breckton announced. He motioned to the soldiers, who opened doors and swept into the rooms.

“So what’s all the fuss? Check the quarters of the best-looking servant,” Gaunt said. “She probably just fell asleep afterward.”

“Bishop Saldur is also missing,” Breckton said. “The guard at the tower and two gate sentries are dead as well.”

The soldiers finished searching the rooms and returned to the hallway.

“How could Saldur have gotten out?” Arista asked. “And why would he take Modina?”

Hadrian glanced at her and then at the floor. “It wasn’t Saldur.”

“But who could have—” Arista started.

Hadrian interrupted her, “Royce took her. He has taken them both. ‘White’s pawn takes queen and bishop.’ It’s the Queen’s Gambit and Royce has accepted.”

Chapter 21
Langdon Bridge

Directly overhead the full moon peered through a break in the clouds, making the Bernum River glisten like a dark, oily snake as it wound through the heart of Colnora. Numerous warehouses perched on the high banks, sleeping like behemoths on the cold winter night. Far from the residential neighborhoods, the mercantile district was desolate at this hour. Frost-covered lampposts fashioned in the shapes of swans dotted the length of the Langdon Bridge, illuminating icicles hanging from every ledge and ornament. Snow started to fall once more, and fluffy flakes caught in the lamplight twirled and drifted on air currents rising from the river gorge. The sound of the Bernum roared up from the depths like some monstrous, insatiable beast.

Royce stood in the shadows on the north side of the bridge. Despite the cold, he was drenched in sweat. Behind him, Saldur and Modina stood silently with their wrists tied behind their backs. Royce did not use gags—they were not required. He had given his prisoners several reasons to remain silent.

Extracting Saldur from the prison tower had been easy enough. The ex-regent offered no resistance and obeyed every whispered command promptly and quietly. Royce had been disappointed, as he was eager for any excuse to correct that particular captive’s behavior. Modina was another matter. He honestly regretted taking her. He simply had no choice. Royce had squeezed her neck with the least amount of pressure and for the shortest interval necessary to drop her painlessly into unconsciousness. He was certain she woke with a terrible headache but suffered no other harm.

Royce studied the warehouses on the far side of the bridge. One had a four-leaf clover painted on its side. That was the place where he had mistakenly killed Merrick’s lover. It happened back when all three of them were assassins in the Black Diamond Thieves Guild.
Jade’s tomb
. He worried about the message Merrick was sending with his choice of location.

After glancing up again and checking the location of the moon, Royce lit a lantern and stepped into the street. Two nerve-wracking moments later, another light appeared in reply from the far end of the bridge. Merrick was there. And Gwen was with him.

She’s alive!

Royce’s heart leapt. Relief mixed with anxiety. She was so close, yet not close enough. No one else was visible—the Black Diamond was conspicuously absent. Royce had expected members of the thieves’ guild to descend the instant he entered the city. Either Merrick had arranged for safe passage, or they decided they did not want any part of
this
transaction.

“Show them,” Merrick’s voice carried on the cool, crisp air.

Royce motioned and Modina and Saldur stepped from the shadows next to him.

“I’ll double your reward for this, Marius,” Saldur shouted. “You’ll be Marquis of Melengar. I’ll—” He cried out in pain as Royce dragged Alverstone along his shoulder blade. The gleaming knife sliced through the regent’s robes and into his skin.