Blackveil
Page 154
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There was a slight downturn of the edges of Colin’s mouth, but he did not show any anger. “Whatever the outcome, what we have done is in the best interests of the realm, and in Laren’s, believe it or not.”
“You just don’t know her, do you? No matter you call her a friend, you don’t know her. You Weapons, you have no idea about anything. If the king wakes up, I warrant there’ll be a reckoning. He loves her, he does. Laren.”
Colin’s eyes grew unfocussed as he gazed across the room. “I imagine there will be a reckoning,” he said as if to himself. “I imagine there will be.”
Elgin had expected at least some anger from the man, and even wished it, but he sensed sadness instead. These Weapons, they were unnatural, it seemed to him. Almost inhuman and secretive in their ways.
The door to the bedchamber opened and Laren and Lady Estora—now Queen Estora—stepped out. Colin rose and bowed. Elgin followed suit. He’d never been so close to the king’s betrothed. She was striking from a distance. Close up her beauty practically hurt his eyes. Humbled by her presence, Elgin could only gaze at the floor.
“Counselor Dovekey,” the queen said, “I wish to relieve Laren Mapstone of duty immediately. Lieutenant Connly will assume her responsibilities at once.”
“No,” Elgin whispered.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“And confine her to quarters,” the queen added.
“No!” Elgin wailed. He started toward her, but suddenly a pair of swords wielded by the black-gloved hands of Weapons were pointed at his chest.
“Chief,” Laren said, “peace, my friend. You cannot help the Riders if you are imprisoned. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Tell the Riders not to worry.”
He watched in astonishment as another pair of Weapons took her arms and led her from the room. The queen receded into the bedchamber.
Elgin pointed an accusing finger at Colin. “I won’t forget this, Weapon. None of the Riders will. Even if the king dies. Especially if the king dies.”
TALES OF THE SEA KINGS
Estora sank into the chair beside Zachary’s bed.
“I hope you understand,” she said.
He lay peacefully, unresponsive as always to her words and presence.
Her decision about Captain Mapstone today was one of several she’d already had to make since the coronation. The ceremony had been a quick, muted affair, attended by any dignitary on castle grounds who could be found. Her mother and sisters remained long enough to witness the ceremony and then departed with the corpse of her father.
In a way, the coronation had been like her wedding, only she was not marrying just one man, but a realm. She was given not a ring, but a crown. Her fingers went to the fillet on her head. It didn’t fit exactly right, and Colin said it would be no problem for it to be adjusted by the royal jeweler.
She knew more decisions awaited her attention, some where life and death lay in the balance, others less important. For now she delegated those that she could. Cummings, she was certain, was quite capable of organizing the coronation dinner on her behalf. The rest, Colin was holding in reserve for her for now, giving her time to adjust to her new role and the shock of her father’s sudden death.
“You have no idea,” she whispered to Zachary.
She took the cloth soaking in the bowl of cool water, wrung it out, and gently dabbed the sweat on his face. All at once his eyes fluttered open and he grabbed her wrist. She stifled a cry. Even ill as he was, his grip was crushingly strong.
“I would have begged her not to go,” he said, eyes fever bright. Then he released her wrist, mumbled something more and fell back into his troubled sleep.
“Zachary?” she called. “Zachary?” But he did not respond.
She sat back wondering if he spoke out of memory or dream, or if he had incorporated something of her conversation with Captain Mapstone into his subconscious.
Her wrist still bore the pressure marks of his grip. She flexed her hand and reached for the book on his bedside table. Sometimes she spoke to him as Master Destarion recommended, telling him of all that had come to pass, and of her sorrow, and of her hopes that they would embark on a very bright future together when he got well, ruling the realm in concert and in peace, and raising children who were healthy and happy. They were all the things any new bride would wish for, although few brides had to worry about ruling anything beyond their own households.
Estora had felt awkward speaking to him while menders were in attendance, so she’d taken to reading to Zachary instead, and even when they were alone, as now, she found she enjoyed the reading as an escape from all the turmoil around her. She hoped her voice touched Zachary somewhere inside and comforted him. Master Fogg, the castle librarian, had located for her at her request a volume titled Tales of the Sea Kings.
She’d already read to him the tale of Marin the Gardener, who, it was said, was an enchantress who lived in the Northern Sea archipelago and rejoiced in the growth of natural things. Her garden was an entire island: its woods, meadow, and shore, and all the creatures that inhabited it with her.
Most of the tales of the sea kings centered around the Northern Sea and its islands, and the next one she opened up to was a favorite among seamen, that of Yolandhe, the seductress who guided King Akarion to her shore and kept him there. When the enchantment lifted, Akarion remained with her out of love, but Yolandhe was immortal, and Akarion mortal. The tale always ended on a bittersweet note.
Despite Yolandhe’s trickery, Estora always sympathized with her loneliness. Though, if she wished to apply logic to the tales, there were apparently enchantresses on just about every island and sailors constantly landing onshore to become ensnared in one spell or another.
“You just don’t know her, do you? No matter you call her a friend, you don’t know her. You Weapons, you have no idea about anything. If the king wakes up, I warrant there’ll be a reckoning. He loves her, he does. Laren.”
Colin’s eyes grew unfocussed as he gazed across the room. “I imagine there will be a reckoning,” he said as if to himself. “I imagine there will be.”
Elgin had expected at least some anger from the man, and even wished it, but he sensed sadness instead. These Weapons, they were unnatural, it seemed to him. Almost inhuman and secretive in their ways.
The door to the bedchamber opened and Laren and Lady Estora—now Queen Estora—stepped out. Colin rose and bowed. Elgin followed suit. He’d never been so close to the king’s betrothed. She was striking from a distance. Close up her beauty practically hurt his eyes. Humbled by her presence, Elgin could only gaze at the floor.
“Counselor Dovekey,” the queen said, “I wish to relieve Laren Mapstone of duty immediately. Lieutenant Connly will assume her responsibilities at once.”
“No,” Elgin whispered.
“Yes, Your Highness.”
“And confine her to quarters,” the queen added.
“No!” Elgin wailed. He started toward her, but suddenly a pair of swords wielded by the black-gloved hands of Weapons were pointed at his chest.
“Chief,” Laren said, “peace, my friend. You cannot help the Riders if you are imprisoned. I’ll be fine. Don’t worry. Tell the Riders not to worry.”
He watched in astonishment as another pair of Weapons took her arms and led her from the room. The queen receded into the bedchamber.
Elgin pointed an accusing finger at Colin. “I won’t forget this, Weapon. None of the Riders will. Even if the king dies. Especially if the king dies.”
TALES OF THE SEA KINGS
Estora sank into the chair beside Zachary’s bed.
“I hope you understand,” she said.
He lay peacefully, unresponsive as always to her words and presence.
Her decision about Captain Mapstone today was one of several she’d already had to make since the coronation. The ceremony had been a quick, muted affair, attended by any dignitary on castle grounds who could be found. Her mother and sisters remained long enough to witness the ceremony and then departed with the corpse of her father.
In a way, the coronation had been like her wedding, only she was not marrying just one man, but a realm. She was given not a ring, but a crown. Her fingers went to the fillet on her head. It didn’t fit exactly right, and Colin said it would be no problem for it to be adjusted by the royal jeweler.
She knew more decisions awaited her attention, some where life and death lay in the balance, others less important. For now she delegated those that she could. Cummings, she was certain, was quite capable of organizing the coronation dinner on her behalf. The rest, Colin was holding in reserve for her for now, giving her time to adjust to her new role and the shock of her father’s sudden death.
“You have no idea,” she whispered to Zachary.
She took the cloth soaking in the bowl of cool water, wrung it out, and gently dabbed the sweat on his face. All at once his eyes fluttered open and he grabbed her wrist. She stifled a cry. Even ill as he was, his grip was crushingly strong.
“I would have begged her not to go,” he said, eyes fever bright. Then he released her wrist, mumbled something more and fell back into his troubled sleep.
“Zachary?” she called. “Zachary?” But he did not respond.
She sat back wondering if he spoke out of memory or dream, or if he had incorporated something of her conversation with Captain Mapstone into his subconscious.
Her wrist still bore the pressure marks of his grip. She flexed her hand and reached for the book on his bedside table. Sometimes she spoke to him as Master Destarion recommended, telling him of all that had come to pass, and of her sorrow, and of her hopes that they would embark on a very bright future together when he got well, ruling the realm in concert and in peace, and raising children who were healthy and happy. They were all the things any new bride would wish for, although few brides had to worry about ruling anything beyond their own households.
Estora had felt awkward speaking to him while menders were in attendance, so she’d taken to reading to Zachary instead, and even when they were alone, as now, she found she enjoyed the reading as an escape from all the turmoil around her. She hoped her voice touched Zachary somewhere inside and comforted him. Master Fogg, the castle librarian, had located for her at her request a volume titled Tales of the Sea Kings.
She’d already read to him the tale of Marin the Gardener, who, it was said, was an enchantress who lived in the Northern Sea archipelago and rejoiced in the growth of natural things. Her garden was an entire island: its woods, meadow, and shore, and all the creatures that inhabited it with her.
Most of the tales of the sea kings centered around the Northern Sea and its islands, and the next one she opened up to was a favorite among seamen, that of Yolandhe, the seductress who guided King Akarion to her shore and kept him there. When the enchantment lifted, Akarion remained with her out of love, but Yolandhe was immortal, and Akarion mortal. The tale always ended on a bittersweet note.
Despite Yolandhe’s trickery, Estora always sympathized with her loneliness. Though, if she wished to apply logic to the tales, there were apparently enchantresses on just about every island and sailors constantly landing onshore to become ensnared in one spell or another.
