His tears interrupted, Baynard stared at Sana in astonishment.
She looked around at the people. “The king told me…w-when we were alone…that he would soon be rid of his wife. He offered me the chance to marry him once he was ‘free’ if I bore him a son. He said we could easily lie about the child’s birth date on the court records to make it legal.” She paused for effect. “But I would not hear of any harm coming to Her Majesty!” she insisted with a fetching stare full of sincerity, before lowering her head. “I know what I am, and I’m not worthy to be queen.”
Her virtuous refusal of a crown seemed to make her instantly credible in the eyes of many in the largely unlettered populace.
Jonty let out a low whistle of amazement, but Thaydor was seething at this mockery.
“Go on,” Eudo urged her when Sana paused to dab at her eyes.
“I feared if I refused to go along with it, the king would have me killed, too. So I pretended to cooperate, but at the first opportunity, I fled to Lord Eudo and exposed the whole plot. Unfortunately, it was too late by then. Sir Reynulf had already been sent out with his men to murder her. He was very well paid for it.”
“Sana.” Baynard finally found his voice, staring at his mistress. “How could you?”
She turned her back on him and hurried to Lord Eudo’s side as though frightened.
At last, the incredulous king seemed to come back to life and started struggling against his captors. “People! Not a word of that is true! You have to believe me!”
“Judge and jury will determine that, sire, just as they do for any other citizen accused of murder. All are equal under the law,” Lord Eudo countered. “Guards, take the accused inside. He will stand trial at once so the citizens of this good land need not suffer under his misrule any more than they already have.”
Then he addressed the crowd again. “You see, ladies and gentlemen, as soon as the dreadful news reached me, I used my role as royal advisor to order a full investigation of the matter. I kept it hidden from the king in strictest secrecy. I had no choice. I knew he would only thwart me to hide his guilt, but at the same time, my greatest fear was that his evil deed would bring down the wrath of the kingdom of Aisedor upon us.
“We cannot risk going to war with the nation that has long been our strongest ally and lose thousands of brave young men, all because of one royal marriage disintegrating.
“I promised Aisedor that I would get to the bottom of it as quickly as possible. My investigation has been ongoing for a fortnight. I assured Queen Engelise’s parents that if our king had indeed done this to their daughter, he would be punished like any other criminal. And so he will.”
“How could you do this to me, Eudo? I trusted you!” the weeping man shouted, his crown askew. “He’s mad! Do you hear me? Don’t listen to this!” he screamed at his subjects. “I’d never kill my wife!”
Sana shook her head dramatically and kept her eyes down.
Thaydor marveled that she could so coolly betray a man she’d lain with for the past year.
All around him, meanwhile, the people were growing all the more bewildered and devastated as the situation sank in. Their whole world had just gone topsy-turvy.
Lord Eudo forged on, apparently determined to show he had everything well in hand. “You will be granted lawyers to argue on your behalf, sire, but your trial will take place this very night. The complete findings of our investigation will be revealed, and if you are found guilty, justice will be swift.”
“Oh, you will hang me? You and what army?” the king roared.
The Urmugoths growled and pushed back the crowd.
Answer enough.
“No, sire, the punishment for murder is beheading, as you well know,” Lord Eudo corrected him.
“You bastard!” As they started to pull him away, Baynard looked frantically over his shoulder. “Somebody find Thaydor! Tell him what’s happened! He’s no outlaw! It was all lies—”
His confession of having framed his former champion was silenced as he disappeared, abruptly dragged inside.
Jonty huffed in disgust while murmurs about this new revelation raced through the crowd. “Can you believe that blackguard just assumes you’ll still rescue him after what he did to you?”
Thaydor glanced at him in surprise. “Of course I will,” he said. “I took an oath.”
The bard, for once, was speechless.
Chapter 16
Citadel
R
estless tension filled the dramatic limestone caves of the citadel under the mountain as everyone waited into the night for Thaydor to return.
Only Jonty had stayed with him in the city to await the verdict in the king’s trial. The rest of the knights who had set out with them this morning had come back by late afternoon and recounted all the awful news.
Wrynne sat in a high rocky nook with a narrow window that overlooked the starlit road below and grieved for her country. She prayed that the Urms did not start butchering people in the city. But one thing was clear. With such troops under his command, who would dare protest Lord Eudo’s rise to power? Most of the simple folk of Veraidel would not even recognize it for a coup until it was too late.
Thankfully, the knights saw it all quite clearly now that her husband had shaken them out of their torpor. Their collective fury thrummed through the Eldenhold’s labyrinth of tunnels and caves. But they neither shouted nor raged. Not even Reynulf, despite being blamed for murdering the queen.
Looking at him now, slowly sharpening his sword, Wrynne realized that she had not seen the Bloodletter truly angry until now. When he’d heard the accusations against him, Reynulf had retreated into himself with dark, brooding patience. His icy silence made him ten times more frightening. Thaydor had warned him his masters would betray him, and once again, the paladin was right.
The whole place was eerily quiet with the warriors’ grim anger.
Only the three boys vented their outrage, taking up their swords and training hard. Kai, Petra, and Jeremy clashed with surprising ferocity. Wrynne was impressed. The squires were more dangerous than they looked.
The older and more experienced veterans saved their strength, however, waiting for their captain to return with news and a plan. They merely readied their armor and their horses and rested as best they could ahead of the coming battle.
Wrynne had done her best, too, earlier today in the chapel to help them prepare their souls for the possibility of death.
The thought of the looming confrontation made her shudder as she sat peering out the window into the canyon. It was hard not to worry, knowing that when the time came, her husband would be the one in the thick of the fight. It certainly put their tiff into perspective.
Listening to the wind and the night birds, and ever searching the pale ribbon of the road, she ached for his solid, steadfast presence.
Where are you?
She missed him, and she didn’t like the way they had left things this morning. The oracle’s warning not to let herself be separated from him was ringing in her ears. What if something had already happened to him? What if he’d gotten caught in the city?
She had been so vexed at him last night, subjecting her to his stern talking-to, as though she were a child. He had scolded her once before—at that cave where they had first kissed—and it had irked her just as much then.
Never lie to me again,
he had said that evening.
Well, he had added several more rules for her last night. Arms folded across her chest, she had sat there seething, mentally sticking her tongue out at him, while he had lectured her.
Thou shalt not defy me in front of my troops.
Thou shalt not disobey a direct order in matters of strategy.
He was the chief. Yes, she understood perfectly. She was a neophyte to all this war business, lower than the squires, and he had put her in her place.
Of course, all the while, she had wanted to strangle him. Especially when he’d had the nerve after all that to ask for sex!
Unbelievable
, she had thought, staring at him in astonishment, still stung by his dressing-down. She had huffed at him, rolled over, and feigned sleep.
In the morning, when he had ridden off for Pleiburg, she had glared after his broad back, thinking,
Yes, please. Go away for a while. I need a break from you.
It frightened her to wonder if this was the
Kiss of Life
spell wearing off. But with every hour that passed, her anger at him seemed less urgent…even unfair. She didn’t like being told what to do, but in hindsight, were his requests really that unreasonable? Wasn’t he only trying to keep order and cohesion among his fighting force?
The disapproving looks some of the knights gave her suggested they would have never tolerated such open rebellion from
their
wives. Indeed, she got the feeling that many of these “head-lopping warriors,” as Jonty called them, would have probably answered similar defiance from their own spousal chattel with a backhand rather than a speech.
At least she had perfect faith that Thaydor would never hurt her—or any female, for that matter.
By the time night came and he still failed to return, gnawing worry had overpowered her hurt pride. It didn’t matter. She just wanted him back safe.
Even her indignant rejection of his lovemaking last night seemed petty to her now. What if they never got the chance to make up properly?
She hoped Jonty was looking after him, as she’d made him promise…
Suddenly, she spotted motion on the road. With a swift intake of breath, she leaned forward.
The moonlight revealed three riders coming around the bend.
Three? Gracious, has he already rescued the king by himself?
It sounded typical of him. Perhaps a battle could still be avoided.
“It’s Thaydor! He’s coming!” she called over her shoulder to the men.
One of the big, rough head-loppers rushed over to verify this. The word of a mere female was apparently not enough.
Wrynne frowned.
“She’s right! Open the gate!” he hollered.
Before long, Thaydor was striding into their midst, his tall, confident posture rejuvenating the men at the mere sight of him and sending a thrill through Wrynne down to her toes.
Thank you, Ilios.
She ran down through the dim, winding tunnels to see him, eager to feel his arms around her and confirm for herself that he was unscathed.
When she arrived in the large underground cavern that served as the citadel’s great hall, he was just walking into the warm, gold glow of the lamplight, Jonty safe and sound a step behind him.
He greeted his men, who crowded around him with a hundred questions and blocked her path to him like a mighty forest of so many thick, towering trees. She tried to push her way through, but it was Thaydor who made them clear a path.
“Where is she?” she heard him ask. “Where’s my lady? Is she all right?”
“I’m back here!”
A pair of big fellows parted to let her pass. “Oh… Sorry, milady.”
As soon as Thaydor saw her, he offered an intimate smile, his blue eyes glowing with hopeful affection at the sight of her. “There she is.”
Wrynne rushed forward to launch herself into his arms but stopped short at the sight of his prisoner—a tall, burly man in peasants’ clothes with a sack tied over his head, his hands bound behind his back.
“Who’s this?” she exclaimed.
“Oh, sir, you didn’t already rescue the king without us, did you?” Kai asked, sounding extremely disappointed.
“Hardly. The king’s still in the dungeon under Lionsclaw Keep. I’m sorry to tell you he was found guilty at that mockery of a trail they just held for him.”
“Big surprise,” Jonty said ruefully.
“His Majesty is to be beheaded in the square tomorrow morning. But of course, I don’t intend to let that happen. Which is why we nabbed
him
. Gentlemen, allow me to present our guest.” Thaydor pulled the hood off his prisoner. “There you are. That better?”
Blinking in the light, the scruffy-faced man scowled at him.
“Who the hell is that?” Reynulf asked.
“The royal executioner. But tomorrow morning, I’ll be taking his place. Instead of dropping the blade, obviously, I’m going to get the king out of there, and all of you will be in place to cover my retreat with him when the Urmugoths attack. Which they will.”
Wrynne closed her eyes. “This, for the man who’s spent the past six months trying to have you killed?”
“I told you she wouldn’t like it,” Jonty said to Thaydor.
“The man who framed you as a traitor to your country?” she persisted, flicking her eyes open angrily.
“Darling,” Thaydor said in a long-suffering tone.
She checked her temper, determined not to restart hostilities between them. “It’s just— One wonders why you don’t just let him die, my lord. Is he really worth it?”
His blue eyes flickered with amusement, acknowledging her effort to be a most agreeable wife in front of his men. “Tell her, bard,” he said with a narrow smile.
“He took a vow,” Jonty said wryly. “Oath of loyalty, y’see. They all did. And you know Thaydor.”
The bard’s humor helped defuse the brief tension at her protest.
“So I do,” she said, offering her husband a knowing smile. “I suppose that’s what I get for marrying a hero.”
“And here we thought you’d be cross,” Jonty said. “In fact, we brought you something to cheer you up! A souvenir from our day.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a length of white-and-silver cloth.
“You brought me a handkerchief?” she asked dubiously, taking it from him.
“It’s an armband,” Jonty said as she inspected it.
“Er, gallant. Thanks,” she said, confused.
“We took it off the arm of a dead Urm.” Thaydor clapped the bard on the back and grinned. “Jonty killed one today.”
“What?” she cried.
Thaydor nodded proudly at his companion while the squires cheered with equal parts envy and enthusiasm. “We ran into one while we were running around the city after curfew, figuring out our battle plan.”