“I was, in fact, already en route, Lord Bayar,” Amon said. “My father had asked me to delay my schooling and return home, given the situation here. I only wish I had come sooner.”
“The situation here?” Bayar asked. “What, specifically, do you mean? Did you have a particular reason for concern?” He paused. “A concern about the queen, perhaps?”
Amon wasn’t sure where this was going, but he could feel danger thickening the air, and hear the throb of his heartbeat in his ears.
“We were concerned about Gerard Montaigne’s activities in Tamron,” Amon said. “He has a very large army. Once he stabilizes his hold on Tamron, we’re guessing he might come north.”
It seemed this wasn’t the answer Bayar expected. He gazed at Amon, unblinking, for a long moment, then nodded, seeming pleased. “Precisely. Naturally, we share your concern.”
General Klemath leaned forward. “I’m surprised that your father felt it necessary to call you home for that reason. Protection of our borders is the responsibility of the army. With the help of the Council of Wizards, of course.”
“Aye,” Amon said. “But if Montaigne comes north, our place is here. The royal family will need extra protection so the army can focus on its job.” He paused. “I see that Micah has returned home early as well. Perhaps for the same reason?” He gazed at Micah, hoping his face didn’t betray him. At least the two of them—maybe Lord Bayar as well—knew Micah had kidnapped Raisa from Oden’s Ford and come north with her, only to lose her along the way.
With any luck, the Bayars didn’t know he knew.
“I returned because I believed that at this point in time, I could be helpful here,” Micah said. “And because there were some, here at court, that I missed.” He smiled at Princess Mellony, and she blushed and lowered her eyes.
Once again, suspicion pinged at Amon.
“I’d hoped to find the Princess Raisa here when I returned,” Amon said. “Has there been any word from her?”
“No,” Micah said. “The princess heir is still missing.” He looked at his father as he said it, his expression unreadable.
“Surely there has been some news of her whereabouts,” Amon persisted, watching Micah’s face. “I’ve been away at Oden’s Ford, but I assumed that—”
“There has been no trace or word of the princess heir since she fled the queendom in the autumn,” Lord Bayar said. His gaze flicked to Micah—a warning. Micah’s lips tightened, and he said nothing.
So that was to be the story. Neither Queen Marianna nor the Bayars had told Mellony that her sister had been located in Oden’s Ford. They wouldn’t mention that Micah and Fiona had lost Raisa in Tamron while bringing her back to Fellsmarch. It would be easier to set her aside if she hadn’t been seen or heard from since she disappeared nearly a year ago.
Amon looked from father to son, wondering what Micah had told his father about Raisa. Micah lifted his chin and returned Amon’s gaze, as if daring him to say more. He must suspect that Amon had helped Raisa flee to Oden’s Ford, that they’d been together there. But any admission of that would expose them both to charges of treason, and Micah knew it.
“Oh, I miss Raisa!” Mellony said, swiping at her eyes. “Now more than ever, we should be together. We have sent birds and messengers all over the Seven Realms,” she added, her voice trembling. “I know my sister would be here for our mother’s funeral if she could be.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “I do fear the worst.”
The Seven Realms are at war, Amon thought. Communication is disrupted. How could you think that Raisa would receive a message even if you sent it? But he didn’t say that aloud. He knew he was on precarious ground. If he left Raisa’s enemies with the impression that he would not play along, he would never make it out of the city alive.
“How long have you been back, Corporal Byrne?” Lord Bayar asked, fingering the elaborate ring he wore on his right hand.
Amon heard a trap in the question, but wasn’t sure which way to step to avoid it. “I arrived in Fellsmarch a few days ago from the West Wall,” he said. “I was here when word came about my father. I immediately left for Marisa Pines Camp.”
“The Demonai found Captain Byrne’s party in the pass. All dead,” Averill said.
“All dead?” Mellony blurted. “What about the brigands who attacked him? Do we know who they were?”
“No, Your Highness,” Amon said, excruciatingly aware of the Bayars to either side of the princess. He kept his eyes downcast, knowing his limitations as a liar.
“It’s unlikely we will ever know exactly what happened, since his entire party was killed,” Lord Averill said. “His attackers have probably already crossed back into Tamron.”
“I hope that we in the Guard can work with General Klemath to fortify our borders against further encroachments from the south,” Amon said. He looked to the general, and received a chilly nod in return.
“If his murderers are identified, we will show no mercy,” Princess Mellony said fiercely.
“Have you considered the possibility that the Demonai themselves may be to blame?” Lord Bayar asked, as if Averill were not sitting there. “Relationships with the copperheads have been strained of late. There are some who suspect that they may have had a hand in the Princess Raisa’s disappearance.”
Careful, now, Amon thought. He glanced at Averill Demonai, whose trader face slipped a little.
“That seems unlikely, sir,” Amon said, turning back to Lord Bayar. “My father and the other guards were killed with crossbow bolts and blades. Not Demonai weapons.”
“Anyone can pick up a crossbow,” Lord Bayar said.
“The strained relations you mention are a direct consequence of jinxflinger incursions into the Spirit Mountains and attacks on our upland villages,” Averill said. “While the Demonai have ample cause to move against wizards, it is difficult to fathom what motive the Demonai would have to murder Captain Byrne and his party. In fact, the Demonai honored Captain Byrne last night at Marisa Pines with a warrior service. That is extraordinarily rare, given that he was a Valesman.”
“I’ve not seen proof that wizards are responsible for the attacks you keep complaining about,” Lord Bayar said. “Nor convincing evidence that they’ve actually happened. We in the Wizard Council suspect that they are simply an excuse to continue the interdiction on flashcrafting.”
Both Averill and Bayar were like actors speaking lines for their audience and not to each other.
Lord Bayar waited, and when Averill said nothing, he changed the subject. “I think we can agree that Captain Byrne was a brave and capable commander. Still, it’s unfortunate that he left the queen unprotected, seemingly at a critical time.” Bayar straightened his stoles. “I’ve not yet heard a good explanation for his leaving court.”
Amon stiffened but, of course, had no answer for Lord Bayar, since he couldn’t very well tell the High Wizard that his father had gone south to help smuggle the princess heir back into the queendom; that Byrne had hoped Raisa’s presence would help strengthen Marianna against the influence of the High Wizard.
Averill gazed coldly at Bayar. “I have complete confidence that whatever Captain Byrne was doing, it was in service to the Gray Wolf line,” he said.
“We will probably never know exactly what happened,” Mellony said, breaking into the argument. “I’m sure this is a difficult subject for Corporal Byrne, with his father not yet buried.” She leaned forward. “I was told you had a boon to ask, Corporal Byrne. Please, speak freely.”
She’s generous, Amon thought. Now that the crown is within her grasp.
Gavan Bayar sat forward, his hand on his amulet, eyeing him like he might strike him dead if he said the wrong thing.
“I do have a request,” Amon said. “It is unusual, but I hoped that you might grant it in light of my father’s long service to Queen Marianna.”
“Anything,” Mellony said quickly, then wilted under Lord Bayar’s glare. “If we possibly can, Corporal Byrne, we shall
,” she amended.
“I would like to ask that my father’s ashes be buried near his liege queen, on Marianna Peak,” Amon said. At Mellony’s puzzled expression, he rushed on, “Not—not beside her or anything. Perhaps somewhere nearby, maybe at the foot of her tomb, somewhere he can continue to watch over her in death as he did in life.”
“Oh!” Mellony rose in a swish of silk, hands clasped in front of her, the tears pooling in her eyes. “Oh, that’s so romantic. To think of Captain Byrne watching over his queen forever.”
“Don’t you Byrnes have a tomb in the Cathedral Temple?” Lord Bayar said, seemingly unmoved by romance. “Wouldn’t it be more proper to bury your father next to your mother?”
“Aye, Lord Bayar, it would seem so,” Amon said, looking the wizard in the eyes. “But my mother would understand. She knew when she married my father of the special bond between queen and captain. A bond that goes from life to death.”
Lord Bayar scowled. Amon guessed that the High Wizard instinctively wanted to deny the request, but could think of no good reason to do so. “Speaker Jemson,” Bayar said. “You will oversee Her Majesty’s memorial service. You are in charge of maintaining the old traditions. Doesn’t this seem…disrespectful?”
Jemson templed his fingers together and considered this, his expression solemn. “I am well aware of the bond between queens and captains,” he said finally, his face betraying nothing. “I would have no objection if that is what both families desire.”
“Lord Demonai?” Lord Bayar turned to Averill. “As consort to the queen, I would think you might question the propriety of—”
“I am not at all threatened by Captain Byrne’s ashes, Lord Bayar,” Averill said. “I have never had reason to question Captain Byrne’s loyalty nor the nature of his regard for the queen.” The look he leveled at Gavan Bayar could have frozen the Dyrnnewater.
Mellony smiled damply. “I think my mother, the queen, would be pleased to know that her captain sleeps nearby,” she said, sitting again.
Micah covered her hand with his own, leaned over and whispered something in her ear. She blushed and whispered something back.
“Thank you, Your Highness,” Amon said, trying to ignore the display. He wanted nothing more than to get out of there. He much preferred the mean streets of Southbridge to the connivery at court. He’d gotten what he wanted, after all—a chance to survey the burial site ahead of time and an excuse to be in the thick of things at the memorial.
“With your permission, then, Speaker Jemson and I will walk the burial site later today and make a decision about my father’s rites and the placement of his grave.” Amon rose and bowed. “If I may, I’ll take my leave.”
“Not so fast,” Lord Bayar said.
Amon froze in place, not looking up.
“Corporal Byrne, the Council of Regents must request a little more of your time,” the High Wizard said. “Please, sit.”
C H A P T E R E I G H T E E N
A WEB OF LIES
Amon sat down again, endeavoring to keep his face as blank as new snow while his heart hammered under his uniform coat. He looked up and met the High Wizard’s cold blue eyes.
“While it is difficult to look beyond our recent losses and Queen Marianna’s burial, we must consider the issue of the coronation,” Bayar said.
“The coronation, sir?” Amon said. He glanced at Princess Mellony, then back at Lord Bayar.
“As you astutely pointed out, our enemies are gathering to the south,” Lord Bayar said. “Have you heard the news? Tamron Court has fallen to Gerard Montaigne.”
Amon shook his head. “No,” he said, pretending surprised dismay. “I hadn’t heard that.”
“We cannot afford to leave our throne unoccupied for long,” Bayar said. “It will be perceived as a power vacuum that our enemies to the south will be only too happy to fill. Montaigne may decide that it’s easier to conquer the Fells than to continue fighting against his brothers.”
“I can see where that might happen,” Amon said truthfully.
“Given the princess heir’s extended absence, Queen Marianna made a difficult decision,” Lord Bayar said. “She modified the succession, recognizing that the Princess Raisa might never return home. She named the Princess Mellony her successor in the event that…that the throne became vacant and the Princess Raisa could not be located,” he finished delicately. He shook his head. “None of us ever anticipated that this alternate plan would ever be needed.”
“Raisa may still return,” Mellony said, a faint protest. “I don’t want anyone to think that we’re setting her aside.”
“That is exactly what people will think, daughter, the Demonai in particular,” Averill said. “That is one reason I voted against it on the council.”
“This is difficult for the Princess Mellony to accept,” Lord Hakkam said, speaking up for the first time. “But, in recognition of the current crisis in Arden and Tamron, the Council of Regents has determined that if the Princess Raisa does not return for Queen Marianna’s memorial service, we must proceed with Princess Mellony’s coronation.”
Amon wished he could watch all the faces at once so as not to miss anything. He looked first at Speaker Jemson. The speaker’s face was smooth and untroubled. He was a smart man. He probably knew the price of resistance as well as Amon.
Mellony somehow managed to look both guilty and thrilled. Unconsciously, she reached down and stroked Micah’s hair as if it were a talisman. She’d never hoped to be queen, Amon thought. She likes the idea. And she knows in her secret heart that it will win her Micah.
“Is it really so urgent?” Amon said finally, trying to sound as if this were interesting news that had little to do with him. “It seems like you have a little time before Montaigne regroups. The siege of Tamron Court must have taken a toll. And if he wants to march through the mountains, he’ll have to wait for better weather. As far as I know, he has no experience with mountain warfare.”
“And yet you just said that you returned home because of the risk Montaigne poses,” Lord Bayar said, pouncing on Amon’s words like a trout on a fly. You can’t have it both ways, his expression said. “I don’t think it’s wise to underestimate Montaigne. Look what happened to the Tomlins.”
“I can see why you would not want to leave the throne vacant for long,” Amon said. “But what happens if the Princess Raisa returns at a later time?” He could feel Micah Bayar’s black-eyed gaze on him.
Lord Hakkam shrugged. “There is no provision to…rearrange matters should that happen,” he said. “You must admit, it was irresponsible of her to run off like that, without a word to anyone.”
That was either brave or foolhardy on Hakkam’s part, to call the princess heir of the realm irresponsible. Still, Amon could see how the nobility would take a dim view of Raisa’s disappearance. They’d not been told that it had been precipitated by the prospect of a forced marriage to a wizard. They’d likely been told that Raisa’d had a spat with the queen and stormed off in a huff. The Gray Wolf line was known to be headstrong. Look at Hanalea.
Amon knew that was all he could do, to try to raise a doubt, to try to slow things down. But why would they tell Amon Byrne about their plans for the coronation? Unless—if Raisa still lived, and Amon knew where she was, they would expect him to rush back and tell her. And that might flush their quarry before she could cause real trouble.
So he sat, saying nothing, waiting to be dismissed, wondering what to say to Raisa, and how to prevent his own headstrong queen from doing something foolhardy.
“Queen Mellony will need a captain of her guard,” Lord Bayar said, wrenching him back to the present.
Oh.
Queen Mellony. The sound of it made Amon’s skin itch.
“Aye,” he said, nodding sagely. “That’s so.” He knew he sounded like a dolt, but he wasn’t going to make the offer. His mind worked furiously. Raisa had been right, as she usually was about political matters. Say yes, she’d said. Say yes, or it will be
your death warrant.
“I would be honored, Corporal Byrne, if you would consent to be captain of my guard,” Mellony said, smiling at him.
Amon was glad Raisa had warned him, glad he hadn’t been blindsided. The Bayars knew that the Byrnes stood in the way of their complete control over their chosen queen. So why would they go along with the selection of a Byrne as captain?
Raisa had suggested one reason: the Bayars knew the elevation of Mellony to the throne would be controversial. They would want to add any legitimacy to it that they could. If a Byrne consented to be captain, as tradition demanded, that would make her more credible.
The second possibility was that they really took him to be a fool.
The third possibility was that they wanted to keep him close and under their watch so they could handle him if he showed any signs of being uncooperative.
It was hard to keep in the front of his mind who knew what secrets.
Amon realized he was thinking on it too long, when they were all waiting for his response.
“I—I’m flattered, Your Highness,” Amon said. “But surprised as well. Though I’ve been nearly four years at Oden’s Ford, I’m still a cadet. I’m just eighteen. I would have expected you to choose someone with more schooling and experience.”
“Come, now,” General Klemath snapped. “You can’t be that surprised. It’s always been a Byrne, ever since the Breaking.”
He doesn’t seem happy about it, either, Amon thought. Perhaps he thought one of his idiot sons would be tapped for the post.
“We believe that character and bloodlines are more important than training and experience,” Mellony said, smiling.
“Unless you prefer we name your sister Lydia or your brother Ira,” Lord Bayar said.
Bones, Amon thought. He was surprised Lord Bayar knew he had a sister and brother. He didn’t like that he knew it. Naming Lydia was a possible out for them. She was an artist, without training as a soldier. Although still a Byrne, she would be less of an obstacle to Bayar ambition. It would put Lydia in danger and would not offer much protection to the queen.