Elantris (78 page)
Spirit cupped the old man’s face in his hands. “You did a wonderful job with me, Roial,” he whispered, and Sarene felt intensely that she was intruding. “Without you to watch over me, I would have turned out like my father.”
“No, boy,” Roial said. “You were more like your mother from the start. Domi bless you.”
Sarene turned away then as the duke’s death turned gruesome, his body spasming and blood coming to his lips. When she turned back, blinking the tears from her eyes, Raoden was still kneeling over the old man’s corpse. Finally he took a deep breath and stood, turning to regard the rest of them with sad—but firm—eyes. Beside her, Sarene felt Shuden, Eondel, and Lukel fall to their knees, bowing their heads reverently.
“My king,” Eondel said, speaking for all of them.
“My … husband,” Sarene realized with shock.
CHAPTER 54“He did
what?
” Hrathen asked with amazement.
The priest, startled by Hrathen’s sudden reaction, stuttered as he repeated the message. Hrathen cut the man off halfway through.
The Duke of Ial Plantation, dead? By Telrii’s command? What kind of random move was this? Hrathen could tell from the messenger’s face that there was more, so he motioned for the man to continue. Soon Hrathen realized that the execution hadn’t been random at all—that in fact it had been completely logical. Hrathen couldn’t believe Telrii’s fortune. Roial was said to be a crafty man; catching the duke in the act of treason had been amazingly propitious.
What the messenger related next, however, was even more shocking. The rumors said that Prince Raoden had returned from the grave.
Hrathen sat, dumbfounded, behind his desk. A tapestry fluttered on the wall as the messenger closed the door on his way out.
Control
, he thought.
You can deal with this.
The rumor of Raoden’s return was false, of course, but Hrathen had to admit that it was a masterful stroke. He knew of the prince’s saintly reputation; the people regarded Raoden with a level of idolizing adoration that was given only to dead men. If Sarene had somehow found a look-alike, she could call him husband and continue her bid for the throne even now that Roial was dead.
She certainly works quickly
, Hrathen thought with a respectful smile.
Telrii’s slaughter of Roial still bothered Hrathen. Murdering the duke without trial or incarceration would make the other nobles even more apprehensive. Hrathen rose. Perhaps it wasn’t too late to convince Telrii to at least draft a warrant of execution. It would ease the aristocratic minds if they were able to read such a document.
Telrii refused to see him. Hrathen stood in the waiting room again, staring down two of Telrii’s guards, arms folded in front of him. The two men watched at the ground sheepishly. Apparently, something had unsettled Telrii so much that he wasn’t taking any visitors at all.
Hrathen didn’t intend to let himself be ignored. Though he could not force his way into the room, he could make himself such a nuisance that Telrii eventually agreed to meet with him. So he had spent the last hour demanding a meeting every five minutes.
In fact, the time was approaching for another request. “Soldier,” he commanded. “Ask the king if he will see me.”
The soldier sighed—just as he had the last half-dozen times Hrathen had made the demand. However, the soldier opened the door and obeyed, going in to search out his commander. A few moments later, the man returned.
Hrathen’s query froze in his throat.
It wasn’t the same man
.
The “guard” whipped out his sword and attacked the second guard. Sounds of metal against metal exploded from the king’s audience chamber, and men began to scream—some in rage, others in agony.
Hrathen cursed—a battle on the one night he had left his armor behind. Gritting his teeth, he spun past the fighting guards and entered the room.
The tapestries were in flames, and men struggled desperately in the close confines. Several guards lay dead at the far doorway. Some wore the brown and yellow of the Elantris Guard. The others were in silver and blue—the colors of Count Eondel’s legion.
Hrathen dodged a few attacks, ducking blades or smashing them out of men’s hands. He had to find the king. Telrii was too important to—
Time froze as Hrathen saw the king through the melee, burning strips of cloth dripping from the brocades above. Telrii’s eyes were wild with fear as he
dashed toward the open door at the back of the room. Eondel’s sword found Telrii’s neck before the king had taken more than a few steps.
Telrii’s headless corpse fell at Count Eondel’s feet. The count regarded it with grim eyes, then collapsed himself, holding a wound in his side.
Hrathen stood quietly in the melee, chaos forgotten for the moment, regarding the two corpses.
So much for avoiding a bloody change in power
, he thought with resignation.
CHAPTER 55It seemed unnatural to look at Elantris from the outside. Raoden belonged in the city. It was as if he stood outside of his own body, looking at it from another person’s perspective. He should no more be separated from Elantris than his spirit should be separated from his body.
He stood with Sarene atop Kiin’s fortresslike house in the noonday sun. The merchant, showing both foresight and healthy paranoia following the massacre ten years before, had built his mansion more like a castle than a house. It was a compact square, with straight stone walls and narrow windows, and it even stood atop a hill. The roof had a pattern of stones running along its lip, much like the battlements atop a city wall. It was against one such stone that Raoden leaned now, Sarene pressed close to his side, her arms around his waist as they regarded the city.
Soon after Roial’s death the night before, Kiin had barred his doors and informed them that he had enough supplies stockpiled to last years. Though Raoden doubted the doors would survive long against a determined attack, he welcomed the feelings of safety Kiin inspired. There was no telling how Telrii would react to Raoden’s appearance. Chances were, however, that he would give up all pretense and seek Fjordell aid. The Elantris Guard might have been hesitant to attack Raoden, but Fjordell troops would have no such inhibitions.
“I should have figured it out,” Sarene mumbled at Raoden’s side.
“Hum?” Raoden asked, raising his eyebrows. She was wearing one of Daora’s dresses—which was, of course, too short for her, though Raoden rather liked the amount of leg it showed. She wore her short blond wig, which was cut in a style that made her look younger than she was, a schoolgirl instead of a mature woman. Well, Raoden revised, a six-foot-tall schoolgirl.
Sarene raised her head, looking into his eyes. “I can’t believe I didn’t put it together. I was even suspicious about your—meaning Raoden’s—disappearance. I assumed the king had killed you off, or at least exiled you.”
“He certainly would have liked to,” Raoden said. “He tried to send me away on numerous occasions, but I usually wiggled out of it somehow.”
“It was so
obvious
!” Sarene said, resting her head on his shoulder with a petulant thud. “The cover-up, the embarrassment … it makes perfect sense.”
“It’s easy to see the answers once the puzzle is solved, Sarene,” Raoden said. “I’m not surprised that no one connected my disappearance with Elantris—that isn’t the sort of thing an Arelene would assume. People don’t talk about Elantris, and they certainly don’t want to associate it with those they love. They would
prefer
to believe that I’d died than know that I’d been taken by the Shaod.”
“But I’m not an Arelene,” Sarene said. “I don’t have the same biases.”
“You lived with them,” Raoden said. “You couldn’t help being affected by their disposition. Besides, you haven’t lived around Elantris—you didn’t know how the Shaod worked.”
Sarene huffed to herself. “And you let me go along in ignorance. My own husband.”
“I gave you a clue,” he protested.
“Yes, about five minutes before you revealed yourself.”
Raoden chuckled, pulling her close. No matter what else happened, he was glad he had made the decision to leave Elantris. This short time with Sarene was worth it.
After a few moments, he realized something. “I’m not, you know.”
“Not what?”
“Your husband. At least, the relationship is disputable. The betrothal contract said our marriage would be binding if either of us died before the wedding. I didn’t die—I went to Elantris. Though they’re essentially the same thing, the contract’s words were very specific.”
Sarene looked up with concern.
He laughed quietly. “I’m not trying to get out of it, Sarene,” he said. “I’m just saying we should make it formal, just so everyone’s mind is put at ease.”
Sarene thought for a moment, then she nodded sharply. “Definitely. I’ve been engaged twice during the last two months, and I never got a wedding. A girl deserves a good wedding.”
“A queen’s wedding,” Raoden agreed.
Sarene sighed as she looked back at Kae. The city seemed cold and lifeless, almost unpopulated. The political uncertainty was destroying the economy of Arelon as surely as Iadon’s rule had destroyed its spirit. Where there should have been busy commerce, only a few hearty pedestrians slipped furtively through the streets. The only exception was the great city square, which held the tents of the Arelene Market. While some of the merchants had decided to cut their losses—moving on to Teod to sell what they could—a surprising number had stayed. What could have persuaded so many to remain to try and push wares upon a people that just weren’t buying?
The only other place that showed any sign of activity was the palace. Elantris City Guard members had been poring over the area like worried insects all morning. Sarene had sent her Seon to investigate, but he had yet to return.
“He was such a good man,” Sarene said softly.
“Roial?” Raoden asked. “Yes, he was. The duke was the role model I needed when my father proved unworthy.”
Sarene chuckled softly. “When Kiin first introduced Roial to me, he said he wasn’t sure if the duke helped us because he loved Arelon, or because he was just bored.”
“Many people took Roial’s craftiness as a sign of deceitfulness,” Raoden said. “They were wrong; Roial was clever, and he enjoyed intrigue, but he was a patriot. He taught me to believe in Arelon, even after its many stumbles.”
“He was like a wily old grandfather,” Sarene said. “And he almost became my husband.”
“I still can’t believe that,” Raoden said. “I loved Roial … but to imagine him married? To you?”
Sarene laughed. “I don’t think we believed it either. Of course, that doesn’t mean we wouldn’t have gone through with it.”
Raoden sighed, rubbing her shoulder. “If only I had known what capable hands I was leaving Arelon in. It would have saved me a great deal of worry.”
“And New Elantris?” Sarene asked. “Is Karata watching it?”
“New Elantris watches itself without much trouble,” Raoden said. “But, I did send Galladon back this morning with instructions to begin teaching the people AonDor. If we fail here, I don’t want to leave Elantris unable to protect itself.”