The Gods of Amyrantha (40 page)

CHAPTER 39

Exhausted and still numb with grief, Stellan arrived in Whitewater City a little over ten days after he'd left Ramahn. From there he'd intended to hire another barge to take him north to Herino, but was relieved to find an escort waiting for him, sent by Mathu, to bring his cousin home.

Stellan was impressed, even touched, Mathu would think of treating him with such honour at a time like this, and willingly gave himself over to the care of his escort. The guard of honour was a mounted troop of feline Crasii, commanded by a human captain named Martan Derill, along with two other human lieutenants he never bothered to introduce. The younger son of one of Herino's many noble families, Captain Derill was polite yet distant toward his charge, and offered little in the way of conversation on the ride north.

He did tell Stellan what he knew of the circumstances of the king and queen's death as they rode, although it proved to be little more than the duke already knew. There had been a freak storm. The king and queen were among the score of victims. Princess Kylia was miraculously thrown clear and rescued sometime afterward. Prince Mathu had slept in, that morning, and by a mere stroke of good fortune had not been among the casualties.

As he had no wish to be King of Glaeba, Stellan was more thankful for Mathu's survival than he could put into words. He was bereaved by the loss of Enteny,

certainly, and a little concerned that Mathu might not be ready to become king in such dramatic circumstances. But he felt the boy had promise and was looking forward to the opportunity to act as mentor and advisor to the young king, once his father and mother were laid to rest and the coronation was done with.

It surprised Stellan a little to discover how much he was looking forward to the future under Mathu's reign. The young prince's time in Lebec had shown him to be a good-natured, if a little too easily distracted, young man, with a great deal of potential. With the right guidance, he had the makings of a great king; more tolerant than his father, with luck, and certainly more popular.

These thoughts occupied most of Stellan's time on the journey home. It took another six rainy days of hard riding and frequent changes of horses before the island of Herino appeared on horizon. Stellan breathed a sigh of relief when he spied it. It wasn't quite as comforting as the sight of Lebec might have been, but it was near enough to make Stellan grateful to be home.

He would see Lebec again soon. But there was a king to bury and another to crown. Mathu needed his counsel. One of the young king's first official decrees, Stellan hoped, was to recall him and Arkady from the ambassadorial post in Torlenia he currently occupied, and have Stellan appointed to the court, perhaps Chancellor of the Exchequer, or even First Minister. Karyl Deryon's position of Private Secretary to the King might also be available, soon. Lord Deryon was an old man, after all, and with the death of Enteny was likely to take this opportunity to retire.

Whatever post he was appointed to, Arkady would be delighted, Stellan knew, wondering how she was managing as a guest of the Imperator's Consort in the royal seraglium. He was glad she'd been offered the

chance to stay at the palace. It augured well for the negotiations about the Chelae Islands.

With luck, by the time Mathu officially recalled them, Arkady might have achieved what centuries of Glaeban and Torlenian diplomats had failed to do — sorted out who owned the islands and reached an equitable agreement about where the line between Glaeban waters ended and Torlenian waters began.

But that was for the future. For now, Stellan was home and anxious to meet with Mathu. When they arrived at the palace, another troop of palace guards was waiting for him. With a great deal more ceremony than Stellan thought the occasion warranted, they fell in either side of him and escorted him, not to the private chambers of the king where Stellan expected to meet with his cousin, but to the throne room, a cavernous marble-tiled hall, lacking any sort of warmth or familiarity.

The escort stopped at the entrance, indicating the duke should continue alone. Stellan stepped into the hall, glancing over his shoulder as the doors closed behind him with a faintly ominous boom. Turning back, he spied Mathu seated on the throne at the other end of the hall.

'What's this then?' Stellan asked, his boots echoing through the chilly hall as he approached the throne. He stopped at the foot of the dais and bowed to the new King of Glaeba, who was dressed quite formally, a golden coronet circling his forehead, his expression grim. 'You've no need to impress me, Mat.'

'Welcome home, Stellan.'

He stepped a little closer and held out his hands. 'There aren't words to describe the depth of my grief, Mathu, or my sympathy for you and Kylia. How are you holding up?'

Mathu deliberately ignored the gesture. 'I'm fine, thank you. How is your wife?'

Stellan lowered his hands, putting Mathu's cool welcome down to the uncertainty of a young man, barely twenty years old, who — in the worst possible circumstances — finds himself a king. 'She was well enough when I left Ramahn.'

'Her pregnancy progresses well, then?'

Stellan shook his head. He'd decided on the way here he wouldn't lie to Mathu the way he'd lied to Enteny. A new king was a chance for a new start. While there were some things he could never confess, clearing up the mess he'd made by claiming Arkady was pregnant seemed a good place to begin. 'She's not pregnant, Mat. She never was. Your father was pressuring me about an heir, and we were facing exile ... it was stupid, I know, but telling him she was expecting a baby seemed like a good idea at the time.'

'And what's one more lie to a man like you, eh?'

A feeling of dread began to radiate out from Stellan's gut. This meeting here in the throne room, Mathu's cold, monosyllabic answers ... 'Is there something wrong, Mat?'

'You will address me as
your majesty.''

'Tides, I hope you're joking,' he replied, frowning.

'You think it's a joke that I expect you to treat me with the respect due your king?'

'Considering how many times I've bailed you out of trouble, your
majesty,
I think it's an insult, actually.'

'Oh, and you care about insults, do you?'

'A great deal more than you do, it would seem. What's going on here, Mathu?'

For a moment, the young king seemed to relax, and the Mathu Stellan knew so well was seated there on the throne, not the icy monarch who'd greeted him a moment ago. It didn't last. The king frowned, fixing his gaze on some point over Stellan's head to avoid looking him in the eye. 'There have been ... accusations ... made about you.'

'What sort of accusations?'

'I'd rather not repeat them.'

'If you're going to treat me like a leper because of them, I'd rather you did.'

Mathu squirmed uncomfortably on his gilded throne. 'There are claims ... that you have been ... seeing men.'

'I see,' Stellan replied, forcing himself to remain calm, despite the sickening dread threatening to bring him to his knees. 'And
seeing
is a crime under your rule, is it, your majesty?'

'Don't be obtuse, Stellan. You know what I mean.'

'Actually, I'm not sure I do.'

Mathu swallowed hard and seemed to sit a little straighter in his throne before he replied. 'You've been accused of being a sodomite.'

Although his heart was hammering, and his palms began to sweat, long practised at denying such things, Stellan laughed at the very suggestion. 'Tides, you're not taking such a ridiculous accusation seriously, are you?'

'I probably wouldn't have,' Mathu agreed. 'Except this accusation comes from an impeccable source.'

'What impeccable source?' he asked, racking his brains to think of who would level such a charge at him, or what they hoped to gain by it. Was this Reon Debalkor's revenge for Mathu running away from Venetia and coming to Lebec? Payback for inadvertently foiling Reon's plans for his daughter to marry Mathu? Or was it someone else? Someone clearing the decks for their own personal rise to power? He'd known there would be competition for the positions closest to the new king, but who wanted one badly enough to discredit him in such a manner?

More importantly, who even
suspected
the truth, let alone had enough evidence to convince Mathu of it?

'The charge comes from an eyewitness. The man

you raped and sodomised for the better part of a year while he was in your service.'

Even now, Stellan couldn't imagine who Mathu was referring to. 'That's ridiculous! I'm a married man. And I've never raped anybody, male
or
female. If you don't believe me, ask Jaxyn. Or Kylia ...'

Mathu's eyes narrowed in disgust. 'Tides, Jaxyn was right. You're so depraved you don't even see it, do you? He said you'd claim he was your willing partner, when in fact he was too traumatised and threatened by you to resist. As for Kylia, you'll not want to call her as a character witness. Jaxyn confessed to Kylia, fearful of how your sick desires would affect her, when she first returned to Lebec from that school you abandoned her to, leaving you free to pursue your ... sick and perverted hobby —'

'Hang on! You're saying
Jaxyn
is accusing me of this?' Stellan felt as if he'd been gutted.

'And lucky for you the accusation came from him and not one of your other fancy boys,' Mathu said. 'At least Jaxyn Aranville cares enough about the royal family to bring this directly to me, and not make it public'

'Jaxyn would never ...' Stellan began, trying to imagine what had prompted the young man to betray him. Was
he
the one who hungered for a position close to the king? Had Stellan laid the foundations for his own downfall by sending Jaxyn to court, where he'd gotten a taste of the power he could wield if he had the ear of the king? 'I'd like to speak with him.'

'Who? Jaxyn?' Mathu shook his head. 'Not a chance. I'll not have you intimidating or manipulating him into changing his story.'

Stellan felt physically ill. 'Am I to be given a chance to defend myself against these charges?'

Mathu shook his head. 'I'm not prepared to bring the entire family down because of your sick appetites, Stellan, which is exactly what would happen if I announced your depravity to the whole world in an open court. The stink of such a scandal would taint our family for generations to come.'

He relaxed a little, seeing a glimmer of hope. 'Then what
are
you planning to do?'

The king shrugged. 'Charge you with something else, I suppose. The result will be the same, we just won't have to admit to your degeneracy publicly.'

Stellan stared at him in shock — this news even more appalling than the realisation Jaxyn had betrayed him. 'You'd trump up charges against me?'

Mathu glared at him, angry, hurt and still not sure of himself, Stellan suspected, despite his posturing. 'Don't look at me like that, Stellan. You don't own the high moral ground here. You've lied to me. You lied to my father. You've indulged in the most base and degrading perversions for nothing more than your own pleasure ... Tides ... there's no end to the list of your crimes. Don't you dare suggest
I'm
the one in the wrong because I choose to punish you in a manner designed to protect my throne. Your niece is my wife. I cannot —
will
not — damage her reputation by having it sullied with any mud that might stick to yours. Tell me, does Arkady know the truth about you? Is she part of this sick charade?'

For Arkady's sake, Stellan couldn't afford to answer that question. As his accomplice, she stood equally culpable. It would be safer for her if people thought her duped along with the rest of the world.

'You're a better man than this, Mathu. And I'd hoped you'd be a better king.'

'Suit yourself, Stellan,' Mathu said with a shrug. 'You've made your own bed. Now you can lie in it. Alone.'

Mathu rose to his feet and called out for the guards, who'd obviously been waiting for his command.

Before he had time to protest, Stellan was under arrest, being led in disgrace from the throne room, not

to take up an honoured position at the side of his king, but to face an uncertain future and false charges laid against him.

He walked with his head held high, his soul shredded inside, trying not to dwell on the fact that he'd been betrayed, not only by his king and his niece but by the one person in the whole world he would have sworn had loved him.

CHAPTER 40

Declan and Nyah were almost through the mine, within hours of reaching the surface, when the cave-in hit them.

There was little warning of the impending disaster. One moment they were making their way along a wide and seemingly sound tunnel, the torch flickering steadily as they walked. Nyah was chatting away about her pony, or some such triviality that Declan really wasn't listening to ... and then a crack sounded though the mine like a tree trunk snapping and a nightmare exploded around them.

They had only a few seconds and it wasn't nearly enough to get clear, even if it had been possible to tell which direction the trouble was coming from. The torch died in a heartbeat, smothered by the choking dust as Declan tossed it aside and grabbed Nyah — who was screaming hysterically — pushing her down so he covered her body with his. Nyah's screams stopped as she hit the floor, or they were drowned out, because after that, all Declan could hear was the crashing cacophony of falling rocks filling the blinding dust-filled darkness that made it seem as if they were breathing in the very rock holding up the walls. Falling boulders pounded against his arms and his pack, as he bent over his precious charge, his knees buckling under the onslaught. Beneath him Nyah lay quiet and unresisting, surprising Declan with her equanimity during such a terrifying time.