Just like the Palace Guards who lined the walls, every Elite Guard wore his uniform and stood with weapons at hand. The official weaponry of the Elite Guards consisted of a formidable long sword, a short sword that strapped across the back, and a double-edged dagger that hung from the belt.
My father rose, looking majestic in his royal-blue robes, as the antechamber doors were pulled open. The Palace Guards gripped their spears, and the tension in the deafeningly quiet room increased. Then the contingent from Cokyri walked forward, led by the woman who had at one time been our prisoner, their measured footfalls resounding in the stillness of the room.
The High Priestess’s striking green eyes perused my father’s face as she, accompanied by six guards who stood two on either side of her and two behind, neared the thrones. She was clad in a black tunic and leggings, a sword sheathed at her side. Red stitching accented the front of the tunic as well as the black cape that was attached at the shoulders. A ring adorned her right hand and the silver pendant that I knew concealed a dagger hung around her neck, but she wore no crown upon her head.
Her guards, all women, were likewise dressed in black, but their shirts buttoned asymmetrically off to the side, just like the coat Narian had worn at the palace celebration in his honor. All of their clothing was loose fitting, designed for ease of movement, and each carried a sword at her hip, a bow across her back and a dagger in the shaft of one of her tall black boots.
The High Priestess halted fifteen feet from the dais, watching the King of her enemy country warily, her flaming chin-length hair falling around her bronzed face. She extended no indication of respect or deference to my father—ruler did not bow to ruler—but waited in haughty silence.
“State your business,” my father commanded as the tension in the room became almost intolerable, his words as frosty as the air.
The High Priestess did not hesitate to speak, and when she did, power seemed to pulse from her the like of which I had never before felt.
“I have come to demand the return of a Cokyrian boy who is being held here in Hytanica. Do you know of whom I speak?”
“I know of a boy who was abducted as an infant and raised in Cokyri but has now found his true home in Hytanica,” my father replied.
The High Priestess did not appreciate the King’s disputatious response.
“You know we speak of the same boy,” she said, sounding controlled yet impatient.
My father came back with a new tactic. “What reason does the High Priestess of Cokyri have to pursue the return of one runaway child?”
“I would pursue the return of any Cokyrian held within Hytanica,” she answered.
“We have not forced the boy to remain here,” my father rejoined, bridling at her insinuation. “He has stayed of his own volition.”
“Then you would permit his return to Cokyri if that were his choice?”
After a moment of thought, the King declared, “I would.”
The High Priestess’s voice grew strong once more as she issued her second demand.
“I insist that I be allowed to speak to Narian.”
My father for the first time looked to Cannan, and the imposing Captain of the Guard stepped forward. I saw the High Priestess’s perceptive eyes flick between Cannan and the King, as though assessing the balance of power between the two men.
“We will send for him,” Cannan said, making the decision the King had silently asked of him. His dark eyes were cold and hard, and I realized what a strain it was for those who had fought in the war to keep their words and actions civil.
“My guards will escort you to the Meeting Hall while we await his arrival,” my father said, the need to be hospitable masking his abhorrence for the people before him. He then addressed the sergeant at arms. “Kade, arrange the necessary escort and notify the kitchens to bring refreshment to our visitors.”
Kade quickly implemented my father’s orders, and Palace Guards walked in front of and behind the seven Cokyrians, more than doubling their numbers, as they were taken from the Hall of Kings, through the antechamber and on to the Meeting Hall. With the closing of the Throne Room doors, silence again reigned.
The royal family moved into the King’s study while Cannan and an Elite Guard went to collect Narian from the guest room on the third floor where he had spent the night. He had been told to keep to his room so that he could be summoned if he were needed and, of perhaps greater import, so that the Cokyrians would not know of his presence within the palace.
Destari, Halias and several of my father’s personal guards stood outside the door of the study after we had entered, the rest of the Palace Guards and Elite Guards milling about the Hall of Kings. This room too felt agonizingly cold to me, despite the fire snapping in the hearth, and I sank into an armchair as close to the blaze as I dared. Miranna and my mother sat together on the sofa, holding hands, while my father remained on his feet. Although it was only my family in the study, no one spoke. The hush was broken a few minutes later by a sharp rap on the door, and Cannan entered with Narian. As had been the case with Steldor, Narian’s face showed bruising, but his was at the temple as well as along the jaw.
Narian scanned the room, and I recollected the self-defense lesson in which he had told me to always be aware of my surroundings and to take note of every person present and of every exit. Was such conduct second nature to him? Did he ever relax his vigilance?
“I’ve informed Narian of the High Priestess’s demands,” Cannan reported, closing the door.
My father nodded, then addressed the young man standing respectfully before him.
“Do you wish to speak to her?”
Narian’s eyes were steely and he seemed to have detached himself from all emotion.
“No, Your Majesty, I do not.”
“Very well. And of her other demand—do you wish to return to Cokyri?”
Narian’s expression did not change, nor did his tone.
“No, I do not.”
“Then it is here you shall stay,” my father decided, clearly under the impression that Narian’s detachment was an attempt to conceal the anxiety he was truly feeling. I doubted that Narian was afraid, but his actual emotions were indiscernible even to me.
Cannan escorted Narian from the study, and my father gave word for the delegation from Cokyri to be brought before us once more. The King and Queen returned to their thrones, and Miranna and I likewise took our seats, with our guards behind us. Cannan emerged from his office, where he had taken Narian, and returned to my father’s side just as the antechamber doors swung inward.
The High Priestess and her guards entered as they had before, though this time they were accompanied by Kade and the many Hytanican guards who had been with them in the Meeting Hall. As the Palace Guards resumed their positions on either side of the hall and Kade returned to stand beside my mother, the Cokyrians again approached the dais, the High Priestess halting before my father.
“Narian will not be meeting with you,” the King announced. “Nor will he be returning to Cokyri.”
Sparks danced in the High Priestess’s eyes, though the rest of her face remained composed.
“Say what you will, Hytanican King, but Narian must be surrendered into my custody,” she retorted with a clear note of animosity. “You can either release him to us voluntarily, or we will take him by force. I advise you to consider carefully. I will know your answer in the morning.”
She motioned to her six guards, and they departed in formation, their footsteps and the High Priestess’s threat echoing in their wake.
After the antechamber doors closed behind the Cokyrians, debate broke out among those assembled in the Throne Room, including the Palace Guards and Elite Guards, as a measure of fear seized everyone. What had she meant by we will take him by force? Did the Cokyrians plan to restart the war? Would protecting Narian put the entire kingdom at risk? And most pressing, how should the Hytanicans reply when the High Priestess returned in the morning?
T
he debate grew strident as suggestions were torn apart and rejected. My father was conferring with both Kade and Cannan, who was the only person in the room who had remained calm.
I was more distraught than ever, and Miranna shot me a glance that told me she felt the same. Narian stepped out of Cannan’s office to observe the commotion, leaning a shoulder against the wall, his countenance uncharacteristically troubled.
“Quiet!” Cannan bellowed, and everyone was struck eerily dumb. “That’s better,” he grumbled, then he pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes, deep in thought.
A resolute voice disturbed the silence. “We should send for London, sir.”
For a moment, everyone stared at Halias, who stood steadfast, his glistening blue eyes glued to Cannan’s face, then all attention shifted to the Captain of the Guard. Cannan glowered at Halias for a long moment, making no effort to suppress the heat in his stare. Finally, he turned to Destari.
“Do you know where London is?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
“Find him and bring him here. Make sure he understands the situation.”
Destari nodded, then strode from the room through the antechamber doors.
The Throne Room again buzzed with conversation, and I tried several times to catch Narian’s eye. But whenever I glanced toward him, his attention was elsewhere, and I couldn’t help thinking this was deliberate on his part.
After Destari’s departure, my father turned to my mother, Miranna and me.
“You need not stay. It would be best if you retired to your quarters while we men discuss these developments.”
My mother nodded, her face pale, and my father attempted to soothe her.
“We have dealt with the Cokyrians before, and we will deal with this situation as well. There is no need to be afraid.”
My mother stood, and she and Miranna left, accompanied by several guards. Halias remained in the Throne Room, however. I made no move to follow them, and my father looked quizzically at me.
“I would like to stay. I will not cause any disruption—I only want to know what decision is reached as to Narian.”
He acquiesced, too distracted by the matter at hand to argue, and I sank deeper into my chair to make myself both warmer and less conspicuous. Cannan approached my father and they engaged in a muted exchange, at the end of which the captain beckoned to Narian, who was still observing everyone. Narian straightened and crossed the floor, giving my father a deferential bow as he came to stand before the two men.
Cannan examined the young man for several moments, but Narian looked directly back at him, showing no sign of unease. Finally, Cannan spoke.
“The High Priestess would not personally pursue just any Cokyrian boy. It is time you told us the nature of your relationship to her.”
My chest tightened at Cannan’s words, and I began to pick at the fox fur throw upon my lap. At my father’s glance, I forced my hands to lie motionless in my lap, as I did not want my habit to draw Cannan’s notice, lest he deduce that I knew something relevant to his inquiry. While I wasn’t sure how truthful Narian would be, I knew I would never be able to conceal anything from the captain if he turned to me for information. Narian said nothing, his expression inscrutable.
“Perhaps you are but a runaway,” Cannan continued, his commanding eyes set on the sixteen-year-old’s face. When Narian still said naught, Cannan turned to the King. “If that is the case, Sire, I see no need to go to war simply to protect a miscreant child from a parent’s retribution.”
I did not know if Cannan were truly suggesting we return Narian to the High Priestess, but my stomach squirmed at the possibility. I glanced toward the antechamber doors, hoping this conversation would end before London and Destari arrived, as they would certainly give their captain the information he sought.
“I cannot speak to the reason I was abducted as an infant,” Narian finally responded, sounding cowed, and I wondered if he were just playing to his audience.
“As I have told you before, I did not know I was Hytanican until last summer. Then I journeyed here to learn of my heritage. The High Priestess is insistent upon my return because I was raised, as are others, to serve her, and she does not like to lose things she values.” He paused, hanging his head, and his golden bangs fell forward to hide his expression. “I will not suffer, as you put it, a mere ‘parent’s retribution’ should I be placed in her custody.”
After a brief moment, Narian lifted his tortured blue eyes to my father’s kindly brown ones, aware that the King was the weak link.
“I feel no loyalties to Cokyri, Your Majesty. While I will, without argument, comply with any decision you make as to my future, I ask you to permit me to claim Hytanica as my home.”
My father could not turn Narian away.
“Cannan, my decision stands. We will provide him with the same protection I would provide to any of our children.”
The captain looked one last time at Narian, measuring him with his eyes, and it seemed to me that he knew the young man was concealing something. He did not, however, pursue the subject.
“You should return to my office,” the captain said.
“Thank you, sir,” Narian said to Cannan. Then he bowed again to my father. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”
This time the relief I detected seemed genuine. He did as he had been told and retreated toward the captain’s office, although he did not enter, but resumed his earlier stance against the wall.
As we continued to wait for London and Destari to arrive, I reflected upon the ambiguous nature of Narian’s explanation. While he had, strictly speaking, been truthful, his carefully chosen words could hold more than one meaning. I cannot speak to the reason I was abducted would be interpreted by my father as, I don’t know the reason, rather than, I know, but will not reveal it.
It was but a half hour later that Destari and London entered. They strode up the center of the Hall of Kings together, the guards in the room falling silent as they followed the progress of the man most of them had come to call traitor. I knew there were some who believed otherwise, and counted Cannan among them, despite the fact that he had been involved in the decision to discharge my former bodyguard. If Cannan sincerely thought London a traitor, he would not have allowed him into the palace, save to throw him into the dungeon.
London said nothing, but watched the captain, who found himself in a rather awkward position. After clenching and unclenching his jaw several times, Cannan posed the relevant question.
“London, you know the Cokyrians better than anyone. What would you suggest we do?”
“What valuable military advice could a commoner offer to the Captain of the Guard?” London parried, raising a mordant eyebrow.
Cannan stared murderously at his former guard for a moment, then cleared his throat.
“With my authority as commander of Hytanica’s military, I reinstate you to your position in the King’s Elite Guard and to your former rank of deputy captain.”
Somehow, impossibly, my horrible deed had been undone. Perhaps now London would find it within himself to forgive me. I was so elated that I struggled to keep myself from running to him. London, for his part, merely tilted his head toward Cannan to show his gratitude, no change in his bearing.
The captain was unwilling to let London relish the moment for long.
“Now, what action do you propose we take?”
“This is really quite simple,” London replied, taking control. Turning to my father, he asked, “Do you intend to return the boy, Your Majesty?”
“No,” my father replied. “He is Hytanican, and as such is granted the abiding protection of his kingdom.”
“Then this is what we must do.” The tone of London’s voice indicated he would brook no contradiction. “Inform the Cokyrians that we have prevailed upon Narian to return, but that he needs time to bid farewell to his family. Tell them that we will bring him to the bridge in five days, at which time we will transfer him to their custody.
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“During these five days, Hytanica must prepare for whatever response will be forthcoming from Cokyri when they learn that Narian is not actually going to be turned over to them. Forces must be assembled to defend the city if indeed it comes to that.”
“And of the meeting?” the King asked. “Are we to ignore it altogether?”
“I will meet the Cokyrians at the appointed time and location to try to forestall their retaliation.” London’s statement earned a few dubious mutterings, but he did not pay attention. “I will inform the High Priestess that we claim Narian as Hytanican by birth and by choice, and that he will not be delivered into her custody.”
Despite the grumbling among those assembled, Cannan and my father nodded their agreement to London’s proposed strategy. My father then dismissed all but his personal guards, and Cannan and London moved into the captain’s office to discuss the technicalities of the plan. As they passed Narian, I noticed that his cool blue eyes never for an instant left London’s face.
CHAPTER 26
THE ENEMY WITHOUT, THE ENEMY WITHIN
ONCE THE HIGH PRIESTESS HAD CONSENTED TO meet at the bridge five days hence, the city throbbed with activity as it prepared for a potential siege, and Cannan sent patrols to the surrounding villages to instruct their inhabitants to be ready to move inside our walls with little warning if such became necessary. Hunting parties braved the woods to our north, and the villagers slaughtered whatever animals they could sacrifice as part of a plan to stockpile food and other provisions. Hundreds of other supplies were gathered to guard against a potentially long and arduous winter. Weaponry was checked, repaired and counted, and the armories in the palace and at the Military Complex were replenished so that not a single soldier would fall short of the required arms.