The Warrior and the Petulant Princess (8 page)

“Yes, I see him.”

“He is the Commander of my personal guard, Lockley. He is drinking heavily. I don’t believe he would be downing so many goblets if he was involved. He would be watching, pretending to drink.”

“I agree, Sire, the man is happily at ease, it’s obvious.”

“You said the maiden named someone called Curullis?”

“Yes, Sire.”

“It must be Corilleus. There is no love lost between Corilleus and Lockley. When Lizbett has her accident, you must go to Lockley and tell him what’s happening. He is to slip away, find Corilleus and arrest him, and anyone with him. We can sort out the innocent from the guilty quickly enough.”

“This is a good plan,” Larian agreed. “No-one will think anything of me saying hello to a fellow warrior, especially your personal guard.”

“He must also send five of his most trusted men back here immediately to wait outside the doors for my call.”

During their exchange large platters of meat and fowl had been set upon the tables, along with boats of gravy; the King, Lizbett and Larian were sharing a single gravy bowl between them. The King was plating some meat, and Larian some fowl, when reaching for the wine bottle Lizbett ‘accidentally’ knocked the gravy bowl, sending it crashing to the floor. Handerah covertly glanced at Farris; the man’s face was ten shades of purple.

As the servants hurried to the table to clean up the mess, Larian used it as the excuse to wander across to introduce himself to Lockley. Meanwhile, back at the King’s table Lizbett told the servants to fetch the gravy boat that Farris and his three accomplices had been using.

“Ah, thank you,” Lizbett smiled, pouring the gravy across her meat.

Things settled back down, and the meal continued with some jesters juggling and some acrobats bouncing between the tables for entertainment. Every time Handerah glanced over at Farris and his cohorts, he saw only forced smiles and furrowed brows. When the platters and plates were finally cleared away and the entertainers had left the room the King rose to his feet.

“Friends of the court, may I have your attention!”

A hush fell across the crowd, and a table was carried in and placed in the center of the room where the entertainers had just been performing.

“As is the custom, our honored guest will serve you all,” he announced as a large cake was brought in and placed on the table. “With Lord Larian being such a swordsman, I’m sure the pieces will be equal.”

There was laughter and tittering in the crowd, and Larian rose from his chair.

“Thank you, Sire, it will be my great pleasure.”

Moving from his chair he strode to the table, lifted the thin, glimmering knife, and sliced through the middle of the large, square dessert. There was applause as he sliced off two pieces and presented them to the King and Lizbett.

“Prepare yourselves,” he muttered as he laid them down. “Sire, if you please.”

Handerah waited until Larian had returned to the table and was slicing more pieces, before once again rising from his chair.

“Friends of the Court, I have an announcement, and it seems appropriate to make it while Lord Larian is slicing the cake.”

Though his head was down, Larian’s eyes were not focused on his task, they were glancing across at Farris and his cronies; as he’d hoped the traitors and their wives were staring up at the King; it would have been rude to look anywhere else. Covertly retrieving the tiny vial of poison from the pocket of his vest, he dropped its contents upon the small slices of cake, keeping one untainted.

“Commander Larian will not just be a Commander for his Principality of Zanderone, he has agreed to share his experience and knowledge with us, and will be sworn in as a Commander here in Verdana.”

He balanced the four plates of cake along the length of each of his muscled arms, and as he carried them across to Farris and his comrades there was a smattering of applause and calls of congratulations. Carefully placing the dishes in front of each of them, he straightened himself up and gave a small bow to the crowd.

“When you receive your cake,” the King declared, “please eat heartily to show your support of our new Commander.”

With Larian standing directly in front of them the group were obliged to lift their forks and eat, and it was only a moment later that the commotion began.

Farris and his friends began choking, grabbing at their throats, some banging the table with their fists. Within seconds all but one of the eight was on the floor or leaning back in their chair with white foam spilling from their mouth.

“No-one move!” the King commanded.

With lightening speed Larian reached across, grabbed the sole, stunned survivor by his jacket, and lifting him easily, he yanked him over the table and flung on the floor in front of the King’s table. Falling into a crumpled, terrified heap, the once proud noble stared up at his monarch.

“Mercy, Sire, mercy,” he cried.

“Friends of the Court,” the King bellowed ignoring the pleading man and raising his voice over the panic in the room. “Farris and his friends just attempted to poison me, the Princess, and Lord Larian. Now that poison has been turned against them. No-one will leave this room until I determine it is safe for you to do so. There may be others waiting to do you harm.”

The truth was, not only did Handerah want the opportunity to interrogate each of them personally, with one of the plotters left alive he would quickly learn who else was involved and he didn’t want anyone to leave the room.

“Guards!”

The banquet doors flew open and five fully suited warriors strode forward.

“Two of you, take this man to the dungeons. You, guard this door to the banquet chamber, you two, stay by the banquet doors. No-one is to come in or leave.”

With the situation firmly in hand, Larian hurried to Lizbett’s side.

“Larian, I can’t believe it,” she breathed, her eyes wide.

“Everything is in hand,” he said calmly. “There’s something I have to do, but I will be back before the moon’s are high.”

“No,” she protested, “please, you can’t leave me.”

“You’re staying with your father until I return. I made a promise and it’s one I must keep.”

“A promise? A promise to who?” she quivered. “Surely I am more important.”

“I’ll tell you everything when I return, but I must go. Be brave for me, and do whatever your father says.”

“I will,” she said, giving up, her face crumpling. “I wish you weren’t going.”

“I must, but soon I shall come to your father’s chambers for you.”

“Hurry, and be careful.”

“I will.”

Handerah had left the table and was staring down at the bodies of Farris and his coconspirators; Larian moved quickly to his side.

“I fear there are more,” the King said ruefully.

“You will soon uncover them,” Larian assured him.

“Now it has become imperative for you to take Lizbett to your home. I would ask, had you not already requested it.”

“You’re right, Sire. You cannot have her safety on your mind while dealing with this business.”

“Exactly.”

“I must escort Falayla back to her home, along with some soldiers, and make sure her family is safe. She is waiting for me behind the green curtain. I’m sure she is still very frightened. She has no idea what just transpired here.”

“Yes, quickly. There will be four warriors at the stables, take them.”

“Thank you, Sire. I told Lizbett I would call upon her at your private apartment when I return.”

“I will be anxious to know what transpired, so we will both be waiting eagerly for your return.”

“Thank you, Sire. I will be quick.”

“Terrible business,” the King muttered as Larian turned quickly away and headed into the chamber to fetch Falayla. “Terrible.”

CHAPTER NINE

I
t wasn’t until the moons were high in the sky that Larian returned to the castle. It had taken some time for him and the four guards to reach the hamlet where Falayla’s family lived, and when they arrived at the small house they found no guards. The family was perfectly safe, and were completely unaware of the drama their precious daughter had endured.

“You poor child,” her mother cried pulling her into her arms. “What a dreadful man he must have been.”

“Your daughter did the King a great service tonight, and will be rewarded,” Larian promised. “Just to be cautious I’m leaving two guards here to watch over you. They’ll stay until it is deemed safe for them to leave.”

“We’re most thankful, Sir,” Falayla’s father said humbly. “Our children are our treasure, and we are so grateful you brought her safely home.”

As Larian had ridden back to the castle he’d spotted a man fleeing through the dark, obviously one of Farris’s cohorts who had managed to escape. It was a short scuffle and the guards soon had him secured, but Larian wanted to deliver him personally to Lockley to have him thrown in dungeon for questioning.

The moons had already begun their descent as Larian was finally hurrying through the castle, down the long passageways to the King’s apartment. There were guards everywhere, security was tight, and as he approached the door he was halted before he could reach it.

“Lord Larian Lobergene. The King is expecting me.”

They made him wait while another guard disappeared to check, and he was then escorted through the doors into the foyer where he saw more guards standing at attention.

“Larian, what news?” the King asked eagerly as he strode forward to greet him.

“The family was fine, there was no-one there. It was clear they knew nothing of the attempt on your life. The poor girl suffered for no reason. On the journey to her home though, she told me Farris did exactly what we anticipated; he took the vial from her and poured it into the gravy boat himself.”

“How disappointed he must have been when Lizbett sent it flying to the floor,” Handerah remarked.

“Did you see the look on his face?” Larian asked. “As hard as he tried he could not disguise it.”

“I did,” the King said grimly. “Even though the gravy no longer contained the poison it was still necessary. She was upset, her accident may not have been successful. Keeping him talking long enough for Falayla to empty the vial and fill it with water was very clever, Larian.”

“Thank you, Sire. It was fortunate there was only the cake left to be served. There was no possibility of him tampering with that, but may I inquire, how are you? Is there any news?”

“I am weary, but I do not dare sleep. The interrogations continue and I must wait for the information. Oh, I was able to send an urgent messenger to your Prince.”

“Sire, thank you. I was about to ask you how I might do that.”

“It is imperative he know.’

“Yes, it is,” Larian agreed. “I promised Lizbett I’d check on her, is she still awake?”

“I see her lamps still burning under the crack of her door. Her apartment is just down that hallway, but I’ll walk with you. The guards won’t let you near her otherwise.”

“My carriage will be arriving tomorrow,” Larian said as they headed down the wide corridor. “If I can switch out the horses we can leave right away.”

“I think it would be best. Her mother will be back tomorrow after the suns have crossed. I don’t want to worry about both of them.”

“Have you told Lizbett I’ll be taking her to my residence for her safety?”

“I have. She was excited, then worried about leaving me, then excited again. I’m sure she is still a bit perplexed, but it’s for the best…for many reasons.”

“Thank you, Sire,” Larian said gratefully. “I won’t bring it up now unless she does. I will talk with her more about it over the morning meal.”

They had reached her door and Handerah opened it and gestured for him to enter.

“Larian, thank you again for all you have done tonight. You have proven you are worthy of all the titles you carry. Now please, go and put Lizbett’s mind to rest. There is a bed chamber adjacent to hers, it’s just through a heavy curtain. If you choose to stay you have my blessing. I would probably rest easier knowing you are near her, in spite of all her protection.”

“Thank you, Sire. I shall give it some thought.”

“She’ll be through there,” Handerah smiled, pointing at a doorway across the foyer. “I know she’ll be very happy you’re back safely. I’ll see you when the suns rise.”

Larian watched the large man stride away. Carrying the weight of the Kingdom on his shoulders was a heavy load, but he bore the burden well, and Larian had tremendous admiration for him.

Moving to the door of what he assumed would be Lizbett’s bed chamber he knocked gently, and it was opened in an instant; Lizbett, out of her formal gown and dressed in a long, cream robe, flung herself against him and hugged him tightly.

“Where have you been? What took so long? I’ve been so worried.”

“Easy,” he crooned, moving into the chamber and kicking the door closed with his foot. “I told you, I had-”

“I know, some promise to keep. What promise, what did you have to do?”

“I had to make sure Falayla was safely returned to her family,” he said patiently.

“You put a common village girl before me?” Lizbett gasped pushing him away and staring up at him.

“That common village girl put her life on the line for you,” he frowned. “Now stop this nonsense. I know it’s been hard for you and you’ve been frightened, but you’re alive and the devils have been captured, in no small part thanks to her.”

“Hold me, Larian, please, you’re right, I was frightened, so frightened. Please don’t leave me again.”

“Dear girl,” he said, taking her hands, “your father has already requested I sleep in the bed chamber next to yours, and so I will.”

“You won’t sleep next to me? I would feel so much safer. Please?”

“No,” he said firmly, “that would not be right, but I will be very close, and now, Lizbett, now I must spank you and reward you. Only you could warrant both.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, her eyes staring at him disbelief. “How could you possibly wish to spank me on such a night as this?”

“I gave you strict instructions when we entered the banquet chamber and you completely ignored them,” he scolded.