“Your life!” Cannan barked. He stepped closer, looming over me, and my resolve faded. Cowering seemed like a good idea, after all.
“Do you know what it did to your mother to have you disappear like that? To have Steldor tell her what had happened, and that we were powerless to intervene? You’re lucky Narian was feeling charitable, because we are powerless. You would have been severely and painfully lashed, perhaps worse, if not for him.”
“I know, Uncle, and I’m sorry. But what do you want me to do? Sit around and wait for my life to end in some other way? What’s my alternative to risking my neck? Being a plump, miserable housewife?”
“Being what you were raised to be.”
“That’s not how my father raised me. You don’t have the right to make me into someone he didn’t want me to be.”
Cannan exhaled, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, reining in his anger in favor of understanding.
“Shaselle, your father never wanted you to be a man. He didn’t want you to fight wars or put yourself in danger. From now on, you need to stay out of this. It’s not where you belong.”
I met his eyes, but didn’t respond.
“Do you understand me, girl?” His voice was sharp and crisp, regaining some of its earlier fervor.
“I understand,” I replied, suddenly meek.
“Good. Now return to the house and accept your mother’s punishment. I have detailed the situation, and she is not happy, to say the least.”
“Yes, Uncle.” I walked past him, then stopped and turned around. “And thank you for coming to help me.”
He gave a curt nod and I walked up the path to my front door, glad to enter into the warmth of the house, despite the looming lecture I would receive.
CHAPTER ELEVEN:
AN IMPOSSIBLE CHOICE
ALERA
The hours passed, but neither Narian nor Cannan returned to the Bastion. I tried to ignore my anxiety over Shaselle and go about my day as usual, but after answering correspondence and attending a few meetings, I could stand the wait no longer. Narian might not be in his office, but there was a good chance that Rava was in hers.
With a determined set to my chin, I left my study and crossed the Hearing Hall to the former office of the Sergeant at Arms, which Rava now occupied. The door stood open, but it was not Narian’s second-in-command who was inside. It was an officer closer to me in age whom I saw with some frequency around the Bastion, one of the few among the command hierarchy who was male.
“Excuse me,” I said as I stepped over the threshold. “I wish to speak to Rava.”
He looked up from a stack of parchments, his light blue eyes judging me.
“She is not here.”
Instead of pressing him for Rava’s whereabouts, I decided to press him for the information I sought. From what I knew, he held significant rank and it was obvious from his presence in Rava’s office that he worked with her.
“Your name?”
“Saadi, at your service.”
“Very well. A young Hytanican woman, eighteen years of age, was arrested, either early this morning or last night. I want to know what happened to her.”
“Many Hytanicans are arrested, Grand Provost.”
“That may be, but I am inquiring about only one.”
“And why do you seek the information?”
I stared at him, irritated that he was evading my question. He would not act thus with Narian or any other Cokyrian superior. Narian’s contention—that such matters were his business and not mine—rang in my ears, along with his belief that his effectiveness might be hampered by my presence. Did Narian come across as weak if he consulted with me? Or were there things from which he sheltered me? In any case, either I had authority or I did not, and it was time to find out which it was. Straightening my posture, I met Saadi’s eyes and took the same no-nonsense approach the commander employed.
“The young woman. What is her status?”
Saadi dropped the parchments upon the desktop and stepped closer, telling me I had at last gained his full attention.
“If you are referring to Cannan’s niece, she has been released upon Commander Narian’s orders.”
“With or without punishment?”
“The commander overrode Rava’s orders that she be lashed.”
My heart pounded, for I could not imagine what Shaselle could have done to merit such a harsh consequence, but my gaze did not waver.
“For what offense?”
“Perhaps you should take that up with the commander.”
“For what offense?” I repeated, taking a step toward him. My place within the chain of command was clearly at issue with this officer, and I wondered if I had weakened my position by dealing with issues through the commander.
“An act of petty vandalism,” he disclosed.
I considered Saadi carefully as I digested this information. There was something more going on here.
“And how many lashes would she have been given had Rava’s original order been carried out?”
“Eight.”
While I tried not to show it, I cringed inside. Eight lashes for an act of petty vandalism? Even for the Cokyrians, this seemed excessive.
“And would she have then been released?”
“Not immediately.”
Once more exasperation rose within me at the officer’s evasiveness—trying to obtain information from him was more taxing than hearing petitions from the people. And then it hit me. Saadi was treating me much as Steldor had during our marriage. The function of the Queen in the former Kingdom of Hytanica was to supervise the household, plan and execute the social events, and raise the children. She played no part in the actual governing of the kingdom. I was not about to let myself be shuffled aside in the same manner in my position of Grand Provost.
“You will tell me everything you know about the matter,” I boldly stated, praying he would obey, for I did not know what I would do if he flouted me. “And you will do so now.”
To my surprise, Saadi dropped his hands to his sides, almost as if coming to attention. While his initial instincts might have been to avoid me, he was used to taking orders from a woman.
“She would have been lashed and then questioned to obtain information about others involved in acts of vandalism. More particularly, those who mocked the High Priestess’s original regulations and those who staged the scarecrow at the military field.”
“Questioned?”
“Interrogated. Forcefully. Until we obtained the information we wanted.”
I felt faint at the thought of what Shaselle might have endured, and at what she might have revealed, whether she knew for certain of her cousin’s involvement or not. But now was not the time to show weakness.
“And is such a punishment, such an approach, typical in dealing with a Hytanican citizen?”
“Yes.”
My head spun, for his answer was appalling, the thought of how my people were being treated was sickening, and the idea that this was not my business was insulting. Then anger rose. In Narian’s own words, my realm was to oversee the welfare of the Hytanican citizens. And this struck me as pretty central to their welfare.
“Is there anything else, Grand Provost?”
Saadi was studying me, almost warily, and I wondered how much of my emotional turmoil could be read upon my face.
“Yes, there is. Beginning tomorrow morning, you will provide me with a repo
rt of all arrests made the previous day, all punishments carried out with an identification of their associated crimes, and all interrogations conducted.”
“I’ll have to check with my superiors first.”
My temper and patience snapped. “I am one of your superiors. You will provide me with the information I desire beginning tomorrow morning or I will inform my superior, the High Priestess, of your insolence.”
“Yes, of course. My apologies.”
“Then see that it is done.”
I turned on my heel and stalked back toward my study, my legs beginning to weaken halfway across the Hearing Hall. By the time I entered my office, I was shaking and sank upon my sofa, trying to compose myself for the afternoon audiences I would soon have to hold.
But how could I have ignored such a fundamental facet of my own position? Cokyrian justice had a most immediate effect on the welfare of my people, just as immediate as their housing, their schools and their livelihoods. And how had I let myself be taken out of the chain of command? It was clear I relied too much on Narian in dealing with the Cokyrians who inhabited the Bastion, making it easy for them to see him as the one in charge, bypassing me. And it was my own fault. I had done my best to avoid direct contact with Cokyrian officers, whether due to my own newness with command or some personal aversion to associating with them. Was I just as narrow-minded and prejudiced in dealing with the Cokyrians as they were in dealing with my people?
I took several deep breaths to calm my racing pulse and my nerves. Now that the problem had been identified, it could be solved. It was time I sought out my own issues rather than waiting to be asked for my input; it was time Grand Provost became more than just a title. Thoughts in place, I stood to reenter the Hearing Hall to begin receiving petitions from my people.
* * *
Miranna had again failed to join me for the latter part of my day, and I closed my doors early, despite the guilt that came with shutting out the needy. Feeling at loose ends and desperate for some companionship, I went to the dining room on the second floor where I hoped my family might be found. Platters of food had already been placed upon the table, telling me I had arrived a few minutes late, but I was greeted cordially nonetheless. I considered my sister carefully, for it had been just over a year since her abduction, but she seemed to have passed that anniversary with no ill effects. Shifting my focus from her, I made an effort to follow the dinner conversation, which had turned to the reconstruction work on the Bastion.
“Are things still progressing well?” I asked, innocuously enough.
“Just fine,” Temerson answered, unfortunately at the same time my father blurted, “We have shortages of—”
They stopped and stared at each other, my father’s face turning ruddy.
“Are you still having difficulty working with the Cokyrians?” I pressed, confused.
For an instant, neither answered, then Temerson pasted on a smile.
“Not at all. King Adrik only meant that the work is far from finished.”
I frowned. “Have there been other complications?”
“No! No, no, of course not,” my father blustered, waving his hand in the air like he was swatting at a fly. “We’re moving at a steady pace, but there really aren’t enough people involved to ensure a timely finish.”
He was dodging around some aspect of the topic, though I couldn’t guess what it might be.
“I’m sure we could arrange for some more workers,” I volunteered.
My father’s gaze went back to Temerson with a strange, pleading expression, and my confusion grew. I glanced at my mother, who had been unusually quiet all evening, but her eyes were directed to the tabletop.
“We truly don’t need them,” my sister’s husband told me emphatically. “We know the men can’t be spared, and as your father said, we’re making steady progress.”
I dropped the subject despite the intrigue it now held, choosing to trust Temerson’s and my father’s motivations. Besides, I could get information on the status of the reconstruction from other sources.
After dinner, I went with Miranna to her third-floor quarters, where Kitten was lounging on the sofa, not such a kitten anymore. We sat across from each other, the cat beside me, and by my sister’s relaxed mood, I could tell that time was at last healing her wounds.
“Temerson and Father didn’t mean to act so strangely, Alera,” she said, tossing her curly hair over her shoulder. “They have been terribly busy, day and night.”
“Night?” I repeated, wondering what work the two of them could be doing at such late hours.
Miranna shrugged. “All I know is they’ve been slaving away. I do miss him, though—Temerson, I mean. He’s changed so much from when we first met.”
Two years ago, Temerson had escorted my sister on a picnic my father had arranged for Steldor and me. She had become smitten with the timid sixteen-year-old almost immediately, though it had taken him months to say more than a few words to her. But since his father’s death, Temerson had indeed changed, just as Narian had since our original introduction.
“Your mind has wandered, Alera,” Miranna said with a sparkle in her eyes. “Are you thinking about someone?”
I stared at her in bewilderment and she laughed. “I know you and Narian have been seeing one another.”
“How could you possibly know?”
“As usual, you have no idea what love has done to the two of you. You’re lions who look at each other and become lambs. It’s obvious!”
My eyebrows peaked, my worries about the discovery of our relationship increasing dramatically. If Miranna could tell, who else might?
“How is Mother?” I inquired, changing the subject. “She didn’t seem herself tonight.”
Miranna twirled a piece of hair around her fingers. “Really? I guess I didn’t notice.”
Rather than try to clarify my instinct that our mother had been reluctant to meet my eyes, I waved off the topic. We chatted for a bit longer, but I couldn’t shake the impression that something was wrong. At last I said good-night and stepped into the corridor, startled to find London waiting for me.
“I was told you were here,” he said, by way of explanation.
“It’s late, and you’re off duty,” I pointed out, bewildered. “I’m sure I can make it to my quarters unharmed.”
“Nonetheless, I’ll accompany you.”
There was no humor in his tone, no desire to engage me, and my apprehension grew. When we arrived at my quarters, he followed me into the parlor, and I wondered why everyone was behaving so strangely tonight, for despite how well London and I knew each other, he would normally have waited for an invitation before entering.
“London, what are you—”
He cut me off, closing the door. “Alera, you must know that this war is far from over.”
“What are you talking about?”
He considered me for a moment, then approached to lay his hands on my shoulders, gazing into my uneasy brown eyes.
“I realize that since Narian came into our lives, you and I have not always been on the best of terms. You have not always agreed with me, and you have not always trusted me. But I beg of you to do so now.”
I took a deep breath to steady my nerves, for his intensity was disconcerting.
“Please, London. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“I know that you and Narian are betrothed,” he said, confirming my suspicion. “This increases the difficulty of your positio
n, but it is imperative that you do as I say.”
He released me and untied a small pouch from his belt, then took my hand, pressing it into my palm.
“Pour this into a goblet of wine and give it to Narian when he comes to you tonight.”
“Why?” I choked, feeling faint.
“Because he is the only one who can stop us. And because you are the only one he won’t suspect. Please, Alera, you must do this for me. For Hytanica.”
“But what are you going to do?” I demanded. “What exactly is it I’m doing for Hytanica?”
He strode to the window, gazing out at the last streaks of light cast by the setting sun before turning around, his face in shadow.
“Tonight, we will take back our kingdom. Halias and his men are positioned to take care of the Cokyrian sentries on the city wall. Once that’s done, we’ll lock down the gate.” His voice was calm, but forceful. “We’re ready for them, Alera—do you realize we outnumber them? We’ve been planning this for months, but Narian can thwart us. The magic the Overlord taught him is too great. He is unnaturally strong, as quiet as the mist, can conjure fire, cause pain with a wave of his hand and has an array of potions at his disposal. You are our only hope of success.”
I bridled at his assumption that our goals were the same.
“Why would I do this?” I angrily demanded. “People will die. My people, Narian’s people. You’re setting them up to die, and for what? An attempt that will fail! Let me talk to Narian, negotiate for more freedoms. I love Hytanica as much as you do, but this is foolish—no, this is reckless.”
“This is going to happen. Just think of how many people will die if Narian is unleashed.”
“Narian is not a monster.”
“Narian is a weapon.”
We glared at each other until it seemed time had stopped altogether, then London stepped toward me. “Sides aren’t easy to pick. But you know which one needs you the most.”