The Last Falcon: Book 1 of the Cael Stone

CHAPTER 3

  Erynn remained still, watching as the man who killed her father walked to the foot of the stairs. The man she had thought about every day for the last two years but had never really believed she would see again — even if she had wanted to find him. And especially not here at the castle in Alyria. Part of her wanted to run, to flee before he could look up and see her, but the other part felt no fear.

  She caught movement at the top of the stairs and saw Holden Salinger step outside. Even from this distance, the king's younger son looked as polished as he usually did — dressed in his finest clothes with his dark hair freshly clipped and his sword at his side. A taller man with a slightly leaner build and short brown hair stood next to him. Marik Fayne was Holden's closest friend and the man he had officially named Commander of the Alyrian Army less than a year before — having unofficially held the role for another year before that. A man whose name had become well known throughout Alyria in the years since Gareth left and not in a good way. The sort of man people didn't even like to talk about. His promotion had angered the king, who didn't trust Marik and thought him far too volatile for such a command, but like most things over the last few years, he didn't do anything to stop it. He seemed reluctant to quarrel with Holden and to think Gareth would straighten everything out when he came home. But as the years passed, it started to become less and less certain when that might be.

  Holden smiled as he gazed down at the Galian soldiers, looking oddly relaxed given their history, but Marik stood straight and tall, his eyes scanning every inch of the courtyard and taking in not only the visitors but also the long rows of Alyrian knights and soldiers and everyone else who had gathered around the inner ward to watch. When Holden proceeded down the stairs to greet her father's killer, Marik followed, but other than a short nod to the Galian, he didn't appear to say much.

  Erynn looked over at the balcony outside the king's study, half-expecting to see him there, his face pale. But all she saw was a section of deep blue drape, pulled out of the open doors by the wind. Had anyone even told him? It was clear the Galians were expected. She didn't need to see the large turn-out of the army, or hear Faris and Clay talking about them in the falconry to know that. There were only two bridges across the Delorin River — the river that marked the boundary between Alyria and her closest neighbor, Brye, to the east. One was at North Falls, the other at South Crossing, and falconers were posted at each. Falconers that would have sent word to the castle the second the Galians crossed. But she knew the king wasn't aware they were coming. If he was, he would have mentioned it in his letter to Gareth.

  The king's guards appeared at the ledge next to her, obviously abandoning their post for a better look at the scene below. Wondering if she might have a chance to catch the king alone — and enough time to tell him who was here — Erynn left the balcony and went across the hall to the study doors. She didn't bother to knock, just opened the door and slipped inside.

  King Wryden was seated at his large oak desk in front of the fireplace, the same place she had left him not that long ago. The sounds of men and horses drifted up from the courtyard, but he didn't appear to have noticed anything unusual. He sat slightly hunched in his high-backed chair, his eyes focused on a letter in his hand; the other hand absent-mindedly stroking his thin grey beard. What looked like a dozen more letters lay on the desk in front of him, on top of an old map of Valentia. A map that Erynn knew was one of his most prized possessions and which she often caught him gazing at these days — as if the mere sight of Ridan somehow made him feel closer to his son even though they were so far apart. A map she herself could easily sit and stare at for hours if only she was given the chance.

  As Erynn crossed the room, her eyes were drawn to a large painting above the mantle. The dragon Krystalix seemed frozen in time, his golden body surrounded by flames and his jaws wide in a furious attack. Brought before the king the day she returned to Caraden, she hadn't been able to take her eyes off it. The king told her that few had ever seen a dragon, let alone witnessed an attack — and survived — and that she was probably the only one still alive in Alyria who had. Word of her experience had spread throughout the kingdom and even after two years people still whispered about it. But she knew all of that had changed now. Her father's killer had also seen the golden dragon attack — and survived.

  "Erynn?" the king said, looking up as she reached the desk. "I didn't hear a knock."

  "Your Grace, something's happened," Erynn said. "I came to —"

  "Did you watch Faris send the letter?"

  Erynn hesitated, distracted by the concern in his eyes. Minutes ago she had been eager to tell him about her trouble with Faris in the falconry. Now it no longer seemed to matter. Gareth was dead. He had to be. Why else were the Galians here? And she didn't have time to explain anyway. "Yes, Your Grace."

  The king seemed relieved, but then he noticed her continued distress and sat forward, lowering the letter to the desk. "What is it? Is there news from the east? From Gareth?"

  "Your Grace, there are Galian soldiers in the courtyard."

  He recoiled slightly. "Did you say Galian?"

  "Yes, Your Grace." Erynn pointed to the balcony. "At least two dozen. With wagons. They just arrived."

  At first he just stared at her. Then he was up and heading for the balcony, faster than she'd ever seen him move before. She followed him outside.

  He gasped as he reached the ledge and saw the sight below. "No, this can't be!"

  By now, all of the Galians had dismounted and Alyrian stablehands were running through the crowd, tending to the horses and leading them off to the stables behind the main keep. A handful of soldiers stood by the stairs, but Holden, Marik and her father's killer were gone.

  Erynn was gripped by a sudden panic, wondering if Holden would ask her father's killer to wait in the throne room, or bring him up to the study to meet the king. She trembled at the thought of coming face-to-face with him again, but forced herself to remain calm. "I saw Prince Holden greet their leader, Your Grace. They must have gone inside."

  The king's jaw tightened. "Holden would have known they were coming. Obviously he chose not to tell me."

  "Your Grace … their leader's the man who killed my father."

  The king turned, looking far more unsettled by this news than she had expected. "You're sure it's him?"

  "Yes, Your Grace. He's dressed different. Nicer. But it's him. I know it's him."

  The king grabbed her arm. Not hard, but enough to startle her. "Did he see you?"

  "No, Your Grace. I was on the balcony." She motioned to the main balcony over the courtyard, noticing the king's two guards quickly slipping back inside, and he blinked briefly at the three servant women still standing there before releasing her arm and returning his attention to the Galians.

  Erynn waited for him to say something. Waited for him to tell her what he was going to do. But the seconds passed and finally she couldn't wait any longer. "Will you arrest him, Your Grace? Make him pay for what he did?"

  He remained still, her questions almost seeming to hang in the warm summer air between them, and when he finally turned she saw fear and indecision in his eyes and something else she couldn't identify but which looked a lot like guilt. He seemed about to speak, but then he clenched his jaw and started for the door. "Come, Erynn. First we must send word of this to Gareth."

  Erynn simply stood there. Stunned. He wanted to write Gareth? Now?

  "Quickly, Erynn," the king called from the doorway.

  Erynn felt her throat go tight, unable to believe he hadn't answered and not sure what to do. But then she knew she had no choice. She had to obey. So she followed him inside and just hoped he'd do something once the letter was written.

  He motioned to the desk, but seemed to avoid her eyes. "Fetch some parchment."

  Erynn sat down in his chair, where he usually allowed her to sit while he dictated his letters, and reached into the top drawer for the quill and ink pot, as well as a piec
e of blank letter parchment. She tried to stay focused on what she was doing, so she could follow his instructions about what to write, but she still felt distracted and stung. Surely he would do something?

  "We have little time, so I will trust you to choose the words," the king said, starting to pace back and forth in front of the fireplace. "Just tell him Galian soldiers are here and that he must start home immediately. Tell him I am no longer asking him as a father. This is now an order from his king."

  Erynn pushed the map and old letters aside to make room to write, but still wasn't seeing the point. "But, Your Grace. Surely, their arrival … I mean … you think he's still alive?"

  The king paused his pacing. "I doubt Naedra would send so few men if the war was indeed over. And until I know for sure that it is, and that my son is dead, I will hold out hope that he is not. But if he is alive, I need him to know the Galians are here. I need him to come home. You must help me, Erynn. Help me get him this message."

  "Yes, Your Grace," Erynn said. She turned back to the parchment, dipped the quill in the ink, and started to write. "Should I tell him who their leader is?"

  The king was pacing again. "Just tell him the Galians are here. And that his king orders him home."

  Erynn had barely finished her first sentence when there was a sharp knock at the door. She jumped — her heart in her throat — and behind her the king stopped and turned to the door. But before he could say a word, it opened and Holden walked in. Alone.

  Erynn couldn't move. Was her father's killer out in the hall? Waiting for a call in to meet the king? She stared at Holden, but his dark eyes were on his father as he crossed the room, one hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword. Then they shifted to her, and down to the quill in her hand. A muscle around his left eye twitched, and he smiled.

  Erynn went cold. Holden had never smiled at her before. Not once in the two years she'd lived at the castle. He barely even knew she existed. She started to rise, assuming he'd want to speak to his father in private, but the king placed a firm hand on her shoulder.

  "Finish the letter," he whispered. "And you will remain quiet, Erynn."

  Erynn heard the warning and sat back down. "Yes, Your Grace."

  Holden stopped a few feet from the desk. "Another letter to Gareth, father?"

  The king walked around the desk and past his son to the window. "I see we have visitors. Why was I not informed the second they crossed the bridge?"

  Erynn kept her eyes on the letter, but she could feel Holden watching her. Then he turned to face his father and walked slowly back across the room towards him.

  "You've not seemed well lately," he said. "I didn't see the need to bother you until they arrived."

  "These are Galians, Holden! You should have told me at once. Not waited until after you had welcomed them inside the castle walls."

  "Lord Caden doesn't bring tidings of war. He's simply come for a short visit."

  Erynn raised her head. Her father's killer was a lord?

  The king seemed almost as surprised as she was. "Lord Caden?"

  Holden smiled. "Lord Silas Caden. The Dragonslayer himself."

  The king's mouth dropped open. "The knight who slew Melaryx? He commands these men?"

  "Yes, I thought you might like to meet him. Given your interest in the dragons."

  Erynn just about dropped her quill. Her father had told her about the knight who had battled and killed the green dragon Melaryx and delivered her two eggs to Queen Naedra, but she had never heard his name. Naedra had raised those dragons herself and now they fought alongside her armies in Ridan. Gareth had written of them several times in his letters. But that was eight or more years before her father was killed. How could a man do something so brave and end up killing her father some years later over a bunch of broodmares?

  "And what of the war?" the king asked. "Naedra has no need of such a man in Ridan?"

  "That's why it's a short visit," Holden replied. "Just a couple of days."

  "Long way to come for a couple of days. Barely gives them time to rest their horses."

  Holden shrugged. "They seemed to think it was important."

  "Do they bring word of your brother? Naedra must know he is in Ridan."

  "I did not feel it wise to ask," Holden replied, a noticeable coolness slipping into his voice. "But I do suspect that's why they're here. I think Naedra would like to make peace with us. We are their neighbors after all."

  The king snorted. "Do not be a fool, Holden. Naedra has no interest in peace. Just ask the people of Ethlon. Or Tallon. She will come west for the rest of us if she gets what she wants in Ridan. Mark my words. Gareth saw it. That is why he went there. To stop her."

  Erynn was having trouble staying focused on the letter. The king was obviously not buying Holden's story and neither was she. He was lying. She could feel it. Suddenly he turned and looked at her again — and then down at the half-written letter in front of her.

  "You're writing to tell him they're here, aren't you?" he asked.

  Erynn flushed and returned her attention to the letter. She started another word, realized the tip of the quill was dry and dipped it back in the ink.

  The king was silent for several long moments. Then he cleared his throat. "My letters are not your business."

  Erynn paused, certain she'd heard a trace of fear in his voice. Fear and something else. Suspicion? But why would it be a secret who he was writing to?

  "You're right, of course," Holden said, and then he laughed. "In fact, maybe that's why the Galians have come. Maybe Naedra wants you to write to Gareth and tell him the news. To get him to leave Ridan. After all, he was the one who talked Parigon into joining the war."

  The king was quiet. Erynn risked another peek and saw he was staring at his son, his eyes full of disbelief, anger, and suspicion. But Holden didn't even look fazed.

  "And speaking of letters," he continued. "I've written your lords of Alyria, requesting they attend a special banquet in honor of this visit. Two nights from now. I do hope I can count on your attendance?"

  The king slammed a fist down on the window ledge, his face red. "I do not wish to honor Galia with a banquet! How dare you do this to me, Holden? Am I not still the king in Alyria?"

  "Father, if we don't show Lord Caden our hospitality, he may decide we're unwilling to be friends. Do you really want him taking that message home? You know we cannot count on Brye should Naedra grow weary of Gareth's interference in Ridan and choose to march against us."

  The king looked like he might explode again, but then he turned away and his shoulders dropped. "How I wish your brother was here. I know he would not have disappointed me like this."

  Holden stiffened. Erynn could see the tension in his jaw and the way his hand now clenched the hilt of his sword, but for what seemed a very long time he didn't say a word. She sat still, quill poised over the parchment, afraid to make a sound.

  "Well, he isn't here, father," Holden said finally. "And I will not keep our guests waiting. Will you come greet Lord Caden, or shall I tell him you're not well? I can handle our relations with Galia if you'd prefer."

  The king sighed and slowly ran a hand over his face. "Tell him I will be down shortly."

  Erynn was wondering what the king planned to say to her father's killer — and if there was still a chance he might arrest him — when she felt Holden watching her again. Her eyes shifted and met his and it was in that moment she knew the truth: there was nothing the king could do about Lord Caden. Even if he wanted to arrest him for the theft of his horses and the murder of her father, Holden would never allow it. The King of Alyria was powerless.

  She looked back down at the letter. Tears came to her eyes and a familiar ache rose up in her chest, but she pushed them away. Seconds later, Holden was gone. She finished the last few words of the letter and held it out to the king as he walked back to the desk, but he waved it off and continued past her to the mantle.

  "I trust the letter says what it needs
to. Prepare it for me to seal."

  "Yes, Your Grace."

  Erynn reached into the drawer for an empty letter tube, but her eyes caught sight of a large key sticking out from beneath a pile of Gareth's old letters and she paused. She had asked the king about it once, intrigued by the elaborately carved design of the bow, but he hadn't really given her an answer. And then, a few months later, she was looking through one of his old books on the history of Alyria — books he had occasionally allowed her read when she wasn't busy in the kitchen or helping him with a letter — and she'd come across a drawing of it. According to the book, it was the key to a tunnel beneath the castle. A tunnel built as an escape route for the Royal Family during times of siege. She had heard rumors when she was young of a secret entrance to the castle, but never anything more than that, and when she saw the drawing she realized that must be it. She was so worried afterward that the king would find out she'd learned the castle's secret and never let her read his books again that she hadn't even told Adena. Now she wondered if the sudden arrival of the Galians meant the king might one day need to use that tunnel. "Do you think the Galians mean to invade, Your Grace?"

  The king had fetched another key — this one much smaller — from a red vase on the mantle and was now walking toward a large cabinet on the back wall. "No. Or at least not yet. Naedra has invested far too much effort in conquering Ridan to split her forces now."

  "Then why are they here? It can't just be for a friendly visit?"

  The king unlocked the cabinet and opened the doors. A dozen or more finely decorated jewelry cases, all of varying sizes and shapes, sat in neat stacks on the lower two shelves. A large and rather old-looking book occupied half of the top shelf, with the usual storage place for the king's prized map sitting bare next to it. "Is the letter ready for me to seal?"

  Erynn grabbed a letter tube and shut the drawer. "Almost, Your Grace." She started to roll the letter up, but then she paused. The king had removed his crown from one of the jewelry cases and was holding it in his hands. Staring at it. Without giving it much thought, Erynn reached for the quill, dipped it in the ink, and quickly added five more words to the bottom of the letter.

  Silas Caden killed Davy Taylor.

  She fanned the ink to help it dry, and had the letter rolled up and in the tube by the time the king returned to the desk, crown on his head. She stuffed the end with a wooden plug and watched as he sealed it with hot wax from a candle on the mantle.

  "Make sure Faris sends it right away," he said as he handed it back. "And you are not to leave the falconry until it is sent. Is that understood?"

  "Yes, Your Grace," Erynn said. She wondered if Faris had sent the other letter yet, or if it was still sitting on his desk. At least now she knew why he only had one falcon: the others were probably out delivering banquet invitations. And he had likely made up the excuse about the falcon needing to rest because he needed to keep one around in case of last minute requests. He just couldn't tell her that because the banquet was still a secret. She knew one thing for sure: she didn't care what he threatened this time. She wasn't leaving the falconry until this letter was out the window and headed east.

  The king started for the door.

  Erynn put the quill and ink away and ran after him. "Your Grace? What about Lord Caden?" She already knew the question was pointless — she had seen that much in Holden's eyes — but she knew she had to ask again. She needed to be sure.

  The king paused, but didn't turn around. "There is nothing to be done, Erynn. He is a lord of Galia now. We would have Naedra and the rest of them here on our doorstep if we did anything. I think you know that."

  "But he killed my father. He can't just get away with that."

  The king turned and looked at her sharply — sharp enough to bite back the tears that were already threatening to surface again. "I want you to stay away from him, Erynn. If he recognized you it might be dangerous. And say nothing of what he did, either. I doubt Holden would take kindly to you spreading unpleasant rumors about his guest, especially with this banquet coming up, and there is no telling what he might do. Is that clear?"

  Erynn couldn't believe he actually wanted her to keep it a secret. After what this man did? After her father had died during a special trip to Galia for him? She wanted to refuse, to tell him she'd do no such thing, and that she'd find some way to get justice with or without his help, but he was the king and she knew there was only one thing she could say. She lowered her eyes to the floor.

  "Yes, Your Grace."