Authors: Jill Williamson
Tags: #Fiction, #Fantasy, #General, #Christian
Achan clutched the boy's shaking head.
Sparrow!
At last, Sparrow slid between two guests and knelt at Achan's side. He set a hand to the boy's pallid face and leaned forward to look in his eyes.
Sir Eagan, now standing at Achan's side, handed him the goblet. "Look."
Achan accepted the cup. A soggy clump of olive green leaves clung to the bottom curve, leaking a froth of watery white slime, like wet sugar. Achan's breathing slowed. Poison?
Sir Eagan's voice drifted down, confirming Achan's fears. "A pellet containing poison. Someone must have put it in--"
"Cranberry verbarium!" A man shouted from afar.
"The pass code!" Lord Livna pulled out his chair. "An attack, my prince! You must escape."
Achan looked up, dazed, still clutching the cup. Escape?
Sir Eric fell to his knees and pushed back the edge of the gold carpet. He lifted a trapdoor, slid the wood cover onto the floor under Achan's chair, and jumped down into the hole.
He motioned Achan to follow. "You must hurry. Our guard has been compromised. This will lead you out."
Achan pushed the boy's rigid body toward Sir Eric, who pulled the boy down, feet first. Achan went next. Then Sparrow, Sir Gavin, Sir Caleb, Inko, and Sir Eagan.
The trapdoor closed, extinguishing all light but what filtered though the lattice wall of the dais. Achan crouched in the cavity under the platform, squeezing the goblet.
Someone had tried to kill him.
Chairs shifted above. Murmurs hummed beyond the lattice wall. A party oblivious to the attempted murder.
"Your Highness?" Sir Eric squatted in the back corner, his face shadowed. "The door out is here, come."
"But the boy." Achan knelt beside him, slapped his cheek lightly, whispered, "Boy, come back to us."
"Where's Kurtz?" Sir Gavin asked.
"He was sitting near the entrance with me," Sparrow said.
"He is still there," Sir Eagan said. "He tells me a squadron of New Kingsguard soldiers approaches the door."
Esek!
Achan dropped the cup and crawled before the holes in the lattice. He peered out into the great hall. Sir Eric knelt at Achan's side. Silence had fallen on the great hall. A pattering of distant boot steps on hard wood the only sound.
A crowd of men in black cloaks spilled onto the entry platform. A flash of red and a figure pushed to the front. Esek Nathak, wearing a red wool doublet, clumped down the steps and strode up the aisle, his black, knee-high boots seemingly filled with lead. Sir Kenton followed behind.
"Lord Livna. I have no time for niceties. Where are you keeping the stray?"
Footsteps clicked over the dais above, down the steps on the right, and Lord Livna passed before the lattice and met Esek halfway down the aisle.
Lord Livna blocked Achan's view of Esek and Sir Kenton. "You enter my home, uninvited, kill my guards, and interrupt a private gathering. Do not make demands of me."
Esek's voice sneered. "Am I king, old man? I answer to no one. Tell me what you have done with Achan Cham and his ancient knights, and I might let you live."
"You are king of nothing. Best take your pompous self out of here before you and your men end up in my dungeon."
A scrape of steel on wood, a flash of light, and a blade's point protruded from Lord Livna's back.
Women screamed. Men bolted to their feet. Guards along the wall drew their swords, only to have Esek's Kingsguards draw against them. No one struck. No one seemed to know what to do next.
Beside Achan, Sir Eric let out a small groan.
Esek jerked Owr free and Lord Livna slumped to the floor. Esek held the sword out to his side, the white steel blade streaked red. "Who is next in line to rule this shabby manor?"
A chair scraped back on the dais above. "My son, Sir Eric, is next in line," Lady Livna said in a commanding voice.
"And where is he?"
Sir Eric's arm trembled against Achan's, but Achan couldn't tear his eyes away from Owr's bloody blade. Esek still held it out to the side, a gruesome reminder of his power.
Lady Livna's answer brought Achan back to reality. "He is escorting our guests to Berland, Your Majesty."
Berland? She was attempting to throw Esek off his trail. Achan didn't deserve such devotion.
"Berland," Esek said. "Why there?"
Lady Livna's voice rang smooth and calm in spite of her husband's body, lying between her and Esek. "I do not know, but I overheard my husband and son talking of Lord Orson's invitation to host a celebration. It is my understanding that men intend to duel for rank in...Gidon Hadar's army."
Esek shifted his posture from one foot to the other, his face tinged pink. "There is no Gidon Hadar! The stray deceives you." He waved Owr's blood-streaked blade at the crowd. "Consider well what an alliance with such a man will get you." He kicked Lord Livna's body and spun around. "Chora!"
From the mob of Esek's guards on the entry platform, a voice called, "Let me pass. The king needs me."
Esek's men parted. Chora, Esek's valet, scurried down the steps, brown robes billowing. He swept beside Esek and took the bloody sword. As Chora wiped Owr clean with a handkerchief, Esek and Sir Kenton whispered to one another in the center of the great hall. Esek scanned the crowd. Did he think Achan would simply be cowering behind some woman?
Not that hiding under the dais was any braver. Achan wanted to go out and fight Esek, but he didn't dare make things worse for the Livna family. He would wait for Sir Eric's lead.
Esek strode from the room, Chora and Sir Kenton trailing behind. When he passed through the doorway, Sir Eric moved away from the lattice and croaked, "This way."
They crawled through a hole in the back wall. Achan paused to help Sparrow with the boy's body. Sir Eric pushed open a second door; a sliver of yellow light lit his face as he crawled out. Achan wriggled on his side, pulling the serving boy's body to the second door with Sparrow and Sir Eagan's help. Sir Eric reached through the door, grabbed the limp boy under the arms, and pulled him through.
Achan emerged from the bottom cupboard of a sideboard and onto a wool rug behind the desk in Lord Livna's study. He looked up to the shelves crammed with scrolls and books that filled two walls, the cold fireplace in the corner. He stood to see Sir Eric across the room, sliding a board into slats to bar the door. The boy lay on the floor in front of the desk, eyes open, lips parted. Achan closed his eyes and stepped back against the cold hearth so the desk obscured the still body.
The boy had saved his life. Died in his place.
The sideboard door slammed and Achan jumped. Sparrow climbed out, followed by Sir Eagan, Sir Gavin, Sir Caleb, and finally Inko.
"Any word from Kurtz?" Sir Gavin asked.
"He's says Esek and his men are mounting up in the bailey," Sir Eagan said. "He'll shadow, see where they go."
Achan caught sight of himself in a mirrorglass above the hearth. A closer look proved it wasn't a mirrorglass but a painting of a man in a gilded frame. The man, possibly in his thirties, had a walnut complexion, a square jaw, and stared back with sapphire eyes. Glossy, black, shoulder-length hair hung in neat ringlets beside his short black beard. A golden crown studded with rubies and emeralds sat on his head.
Achan recalled the
A hand on his shoulder sucked the pain and pressure away. He looked over to Sir Eagan's raised brows. "Every manor in Er'Rets was given such a painting after his coronation."
Little doubt as to why Sitna Manor had never displayed their painting where anyone could see it. "He looks older than I expected."
"Few kings are crowned as young as you. He was thirty-five at his coronation. Fifty-eight when you were born."
"So old?"
Sir Eagan smirked. "Even in
Achan tore himself away from his father's confident expression. He had not thought to connect the rhymes of bards to his own past. Perhaps Sir Caleb should teach him of his father's reign next.
Sir Eric slid down against the barred door. "We should stay until... Mother will come..." He put his head in his hands and his body shook with silent sobs.
Sir Eagan crouched beside the serving boy and sniffed. "Devil's porridge." He closed the boy's eyes and sat back on his haunches.
"What's that?" Achan asked.
"Hemlock." Sparrow looked over Sir Eagan's shoulder, tears pooling in his eyes. "It is very potent."
Achan squeezed his hands into fists and paced back a step, wishing he could draw
"It couldn't have been the chief servant, Your Highness." Sir Eric's voice cracked but grew stronger. "Arne has been with my family for years. It doesn't make sense."
"The jug did not smell of hemlock," Sir Eagan said. "But there was a pellet in the prince's goblet. How much of your wine did you drink, Your Highness?"
Achan's jaw dropped. "Uh, I... Half a...not quite half. Then the food came."
"It had not dissolved enough to affect you, but by the time the boy took it to refill..." Sir Eagan heaved to his feet. "Someone dropped it in your goblet. Maybe during the gifts?"
"It should've been me," Achan said. "Someone was trying to kill me. The boy was a fool to drink from my cup."
"My guards did not permit just anyone into the great hall tonight," Sir Eric said. "Until..."
"But who could be vouching for all the servants?" Inko asked.
"My wife could, I expect. At least the servants who were stationed on the dais." Sir Eric frowned. "I'll question them all. Haddie too. She's our cook. My real concern is that this man might join your army. Continue to travel with you. Try again."
Achan lay awake that night overwhelmed by the evening's festivities. He wanted to help, to at least speak to Lady Livna--to offer his condolences. But the knights had locked him away in his chamber. If he were to be king, shouldn't he be able to make some decisions? Shouldn't he be able to tell the knights what to do? At least make suggestions?
Being cooped up in his chamber left him no viable task but to shadow the minds of the knights who weren't guarding the outside of his door. Sir Gavin and Sir Caleb met with Captain Demry to talk circles around the poisoning. Sir Eagan met with Sir Eric and Lady Livna, as he apparently spent much of his youth living here and was as grieved over Lord Livna's death as they were. Sparrow lay in bed, weeping over who knew what.
Achan had never considered how much people would sacrifice for their king. Treasures, merchandise, service, their own children.
All for a man locked in his chamber with no power whatsoever.
31
The next morning, the knights, Sir Eric, and Captain Demry came to Achan's chambers. Achan sat against the headboard on his bed, legs outstretched, ankles crossed. He wanted to take part in this discussion, to add something significant, but what would he say? He didn't know what they should do next.
Kurtz had returned from shadowing Esek's men and gave his report. "Esek and his soldiers--around ninety--exited the Tsaftown gates and rode for Berland."
"Roxburg, and as many men as I can spare, will join you on your journey," Sir Eric said. "I must stay to console my mother and rule Tsaftown until my brother returns from sea. Then I will join you."
Achan piped up before anyone else could. "We thank your mother for her diversion. How does she fare?"
"She is in seclusion. I will pass on your concern," Sir Eric said, as if he couldn't be bothered with any more emotion. "I know you plan to visit Carmine next, but it is unwise to set out until scouts check the way. Since you should not linger here, either, I suggest taking the hunting trail over the mountain to Mitspah. Send scouts on the dark and light roads to report what they see. By that time, if any of Esek's men block the road to Carmine, you could ask Duchess Amal to send aid."