The Queen's Gambit (50 page)

“The queen awaits your majesty on the steps.”

Lervan froze. For a moment he did not hear the trumpets, cheering, or shouts. Although he'd laid plans against her return, he'd convinced himself that she would go meekly into exile rather than risk coming back. And how in Thod's name had she managed to avoid every snare and assassin cast her way? Hedrina's friends had failed to get rid of Pheresa, and he vowed he'd see Hedrina on her knees, begging forgiveness for this. The very last thing he'd wanted was a public confrontation with his wife, yet here she was, obviously determined to make his coronation day a misery. Thod's mercy, he thought, why did women cause so many problems?

“Sire—”

Jerking from his thoughts, Lervan glared at Lindier. “What
are those fools doing? I gave orders for the guards to arrest her on sight!”

Lindier leaned down from his saddle. “Sire, that might excite the crowd too much,” he said quietly. “Look yon. They are cheering her name.”

Hearing the shouts, Lervan stood up in his carriage and glared at Pheresa. Clad in male garments, she waved regally to the crowd, and it cheered even louder.

Qualms swept Lervan, and he sank down like a stone. “Is she mad?” he asked. “How dare she appear like this, wearing such ridiculous garb? What's to be done?”

“Get her inside out of sight, then arrest her,” Lindier said.

Lervan stared at him with a mingling of panic and anger. “But if we go inside together, it means I accept her as my—No! I won't do it. Have her cleared away now.”

“Sire,” Lindier said with a touch of impatience, “she has no army, no support save this cheering rabble. She cannot prevail against you. Remember that, and meet her with confidence.”

Lervan grew calmer at his words. “You are right. Yes, of course.”

His carriage rolled forward into the square, but it was hardly the flourishing arrival Lervan had intended to make. The trumpets that were supposed to sound a fanfare for him failed to blow. He could feel everything going wrong. But as he climbed down from the carriage a tremendous roar of acclaim rose from the crowd.

Lervan's courage returned immediately. The people loved him, he assured himself, and the coins that had been distributed in the town last night ensured the people's continued devotion. Pheresa was a fool who'd walked into his trap. Smiling, he waved to the crowd, and, with Sir Maltric at his heels, swaggered forward to meet her.

Pheresa had lost sight of Talmor in the crowd. Feeling very much alone, she stood waiting as Lervan came to her. He looked as handsome as ever, and his raiment was magnificent
indeed. She noticed immediately that he wore none of the regalia stored in the treasury chamber and wondered with a prick of anger if King Mux of the barbarians now possessed those items. Replacing the coronation robes must have cost Lervan a fortune, paid for no doubt with the new taxes, and she despised him for his robbery, vanity, and weakness of character.

As their eyes met, revulsion filled his face. “Surely you are a bit—er—underdressed for the occasion, my dear,” he said.

After all that had happened between them, was this all he could say? Enraged, she somehow kept her temper. “Well, your grace,” she replied, using the title deliberately and seeing his face flush when she said it, “no doubt your attire cost enough to clothe us both.” She glanced aside at those listening to their every word, and said even louder, “Or perhaps enough to have rebuilt part of the city.”

Flushing, Lervan glared at her with such ire she expected him to order her arrest, but instead he visibly checked himself and turned to the crowd.

“My people!” he called out, “see this woman who should have been your queen! See how low she has fallen. She stands before you today, unrepentant. She refuses to display shame for her perfidy and cowardice. This adulteress, having corrupted her own protector, having fought my petition of divorce, which would have given her the chance to retire and live quietly while atoning for her sins, instead comes here today to cause what trouble she can.”

Noise rose from the crowd, while Pheresa struggled to control her rage.
Say nothing too hasty,
she told herself.
Let him puff his slander before one and all. His actions have already condemned him.

Lervan pointed at Lindier, who stood nearby. “See our brave marechal!” he shouted. “Father of this woman. Even he, despite a father's natural tenderness toward his own daughter, has turned from her. Can any of you doubt her guilt?”

Jeers and boos rose up, echoing raggedly across the square.

While Lervan spoke, Pheresa glared at her father, but he
refused to meet her gaze. Disappointment welled up in her throat, bringing with it the old hurt. He had never been fond of her until she became queen. And even then, he had proven himself a disloyal intriguer, with ambition and caprice his strongest qualities.

As for Lervan, she wondered how he could lie and charm his way through life so easily. Why did people believe what he said, when his actions spoke so plainly of selfishness and greed?

“Enough!” she cried out, interrupting what Lervan was saying now. “Put an end to your lies, Lervan, and let these people hear the truth for a change.” Staring across the sea of faces, she stretched out her hands in appeal. “Have you forgotten the night Savroix-en-Charva burned? Have you forgotten that the palace was
saved
only because Lervan paid the barbarians to depart?”

Anger swelled through the crowd. A few men began to shake their fists, crying out.

She said even louder, “Do you not know that the royal treasury of both Savroix and Clemenx lies empty because so much tribute has been paid? Do you not care about the taxes that take food from your children's mouths, taxes spent not to rebuild this fair city, but to clothe Lervan in gold and hang jewels on his mistress?”

A shout rose up at her words, and she continued, “What glory does Mandria know now? We might as well be a conquered people, for Lervan has allowed the barbarians to put their feet on our necks.”

More shouting made it impossible to be heard. Pheresa waited for the crowd to finally quiet down. When Lervan tried to speak, she swiftly pulled a document from her pocket and held it aloft.

“Here, good people, is my nuptial contract! Come and read its terms as decreed by King Verence, stipulating that Lervan was to be consort only—never king!”

“Silence! Silence!” Lervan said savagely, rounding on her. “You ran away. I had to save them. And I did!”

“You saved your own hide,” she said in contempt, “but
what else have you done? Your greed has emptied Mandria's treasury. Your cowardice has brought Mandria shame. Your duplicity has divided Mandria back into two halves, weakening the entire realm and putting all of us at the mercy of our enemies. This is what you have done.” She turned back to the crowd, and shouted, “Is this scheming coward the king you want?”

Yelling, the people surged against the guards trying to hold them. Everyone was shouting at once, and in the terrible racket and commotion Pheresa saw the line of guards break. People streamed through despite the knights on horseback struggling to head them off.

Sir Maltric reached for his weapon while a shaken Lervan retreated up the steps to stand beside Pheresa. She moved away from him, and glanced at the guardsmen on her other side. They were watching Lervan, too, and she saw their officer frown before he abruptly strode toward her. With qualms, Pheresa believed herself finished. Well, she thought, trying to keep her courage, she'd had her say. Let Lervan do as he pleased now. She'd denounced him publicly, and if the people still wanted him despite hearing the truth, then they deserved him.

“Your majesty,” the officer said hoarsely.

Both she and Lervan turned to him.

“Arrest her now!” Lervan ordered.

Pheresa stiffened, bracing herself, but instead the officer knelt before her, as did the other men with him. “I give the queen my allegiance,” the officer said, and his men repeated the oath.

Down in the square, the beleaguered guardsmen stopped fighting the crowd and let them draw near. Lord Nejel and other commanders of the guards came running up the steps to her. Ignoring Lervan's sputtering protests, they knelt at her feet, too. “Majesty, we serve you alone,” Lord Nejel said.

Pheresa could hardly believe it. The palace guard was hers again.

“Thank you,” she said in gladness. “The queen accepts your loyalty, knowing you all to be men both good and true.”

The crowd began to jump up and down, cheering anew. Frowning, Lervan retreated up another step.

Meanwhile, Cardinal Theloi emerged from the cluster of dignitaries and bowed to her. “Your majesty, welcome back,” he said. His voice was as cold and dry as ever, but his actions were clear for all to see. “On behalf of the church, may I say that Thod has blessed the queen in bringing her safely back to her people.”

She stared at him, amazed by how quickly he had deserted Lervan after years of plotting on his behalf. Out in the square, the church knights drew their swords in salute. “The queen!” they shouted. “Long live the queen!”

Lervan glanced around him as support continued to shift to her. He was sweating and a tide of red color surged into his face. “Theloi!” he cried in outrage. The cardinal's cold green eyes met his without mercy.

“I am sure your grace welcomes the queen's return most of all,” Theloi said.

Lervan's face drained of color. His mouth trembled a moment before he visibly pulled himself together. Turning to her, he even managed a semblance of a smile, and then as though magic had been done, his charm was back, his smile broadening, his eyes alight.

He reached for her hand, his fingers tugging at her ring of state before she freed herself from his grasp. “Ah, Pheresa,” he said in a rallying tone that did not fool her for a moment. “My dear, of course you know we are all delighted to have you home once more. I have been preserving the throne for you. I saved your palace just as I promised. You may be unhappy with my methods, but Savroix still stands, as you will soon see.”

“I am glad to hear it,” she said.

He cocked his head to one side, and his mouth quirked in the little smile that had once charmed her. “Oh, you're angry with me. I can see that. Well, what if I lost my head for a while? I know I shouldn't have tried to be crowned without you, but it was all so tempting. I just could not bear to let the day of coronation go by without taking action. Mandria needs a crowned head of state, after all. I know I was wrong. Will you forgive me?”

She stared at him, saying nothing.

“I think, yes, I think we had better discuss everything,” he said, glancing around for support. “Start anew, find the best solution. You are a lady both intelligent and reasonable. Will you not agree that I deserve some reward for my efforts to hold the realm together in your absence?” He smiled at her, so cocky, self-assured, and charming. “Come, my dear, let us make amends. We were meant to rule together, and that we shall.”

She saw what he was up to, and a part of her had to admire his audacity. Like the others around her, he had seen an opportunity to patch up this business to his advantage, and he had seized it. She realized that if she refused him, she would appear churlish and vindictive. Although support had moved to her side, she was by no means certain that she really had it. Perhaps negotiation was the best course. She would have to learn to stifle her hatred and resentment in order to deal with Lervan, but the damage to the realm could be repaired.

But even as these thoughts ran through her mind, she found her gaze shifting past Lervan to where a tall, lean figure suddenly pushed his way free of the crowd and came up the steps toward her. The sight of Talmor, his bronzed face set and angry, his black curls atumble on his brow, filled her with a surge of love. How she adored this man, who was so noble and honorable, so courageous and truthful.

She knew then that she could never again be the weak, uncertain Pheresa of old. She could not negotiate with Lervan, could not come to terms with his treason, could not forget all he had done against her. If she gave way now, she would despise herself forever.

“Well, my dear?” Lervan asked, reaching out his hand in friendship. “Shall we go inside?”

Lifting her chin high, she stepped back from him with her eyes suddenly blazing. “No, Lervan,” she said in a voice loud and firm. “You are a traitor. I trust you not, not will I bargain with you.”

“But—”

“No! I go alone to be crowned,” she said. Turning her back
on him, she gestured at the guards. “You men, see that the duc's way is barred.”

Swiftly she headed for the door of the cathedral, going up the steps with her heart thudding at the sudden courage she'd found. She knew she'd done the right thing, even if her new supporters turned back to Lervan now.

“Pheresa!”

It was Talmor's voice that shouted the warning.

At the same time, she heard a faint sound right behind her. Whirling around, Pheresa saw Lervan rushing at her, drawn dagger in hand. Cursing her name, he lunged.

There was no time to panic, no time to do anything but react exactly as Talmor had taught her. The long afternoons of drills on Thirst's wintry practice field came to her aid now. She dodged Lervan's strike instinctively and reached for the Saelutian dagger on her belt. Caught off balance when he missed her, Lervan stumbled on the steps and could not recover in time. She plunged her dagger deep into his side.