Broken Stone (12 page)

Horror at his words overcame her, and she blinked back her sadness for her people standing against each other. “I don’t want to see that happen.”

Torian, who’d remained quiet while Emariya was negotiating, spoke up. “Sir, if I may ask, why did you gather these citizens?”

“So we could make ourselves heard. We need protection from raiders from Thalmas.”

“Sir, you already have that. As part of my wedding agreement with Lady Warren—now Princess Ahlen—I agreed to impose strict fines against any that are convicted of raiding in the Uplands, or any other part of Eltar. Please, accept my apologies for any harm my people have caused you.” Torian knelt before the man.

“Well I’ll be,” he muttered, barely intelligible under his breath. “I’ll let some of you in, but no soldiers.”

“Riya...I don’t like the idea of going with no guards,” Torian said.

“What is it that you need to convince you to stand down and halt your siege of Damphries?”

“You say it was your brother’s doing? Have him punished and publicly convicted of his crime, with the Council embracing you and giving the Uplands representation. If they embrace this peace you say you bring, so will we.”

The negotiations over, they returned to their own tents to make arrangements. Thinking of Blaine being one of only a few to accompany her left Emariya’s skin crawling, but she wasted no time arguing over it. She’d accepted that he would plan to go, to witness her progress. Torian would go of course, and Garith would make the final member of her smaller party.

“Maybe a few days apart will do Jessa and Blaine some good,” Emariya told Torian as they settled in their tent for the night. As dark as it was, and as long as it had been since they last slept, they’d decided not to risk calling at the gate until the sun came up.

Torian laughed. “I wouldn’t count on it. I saw them earlier out near the horses. I do believe they are quit smitten with each other.”

Emariya sulked. “It is going to break her heart when they realize that with him being heir to Sheas and a Stone, my uncle would never allow their match.”

“Don’t be so sure. If you supported it, I think everyone else would.”

Could that really be true? She supposed not everyone had to dislike him as much as she did.
I only
dislike him because he immediately disliked me,
she told herself. Still, perhaps once they’d handled the Council, she’d give them her blessing. Maybe.

“Can you believe this might all be over soon? If the Council arrives within the week, in a few days all of The Three Corners will be united. Blaine will have no choice but to report that we’ve been successful if we quell the uprising so soon.”

“We can only hope. It sounded promising, anyway.”

“And then, once the Councilors are united with me—and what choice will they have after seeing my father’s orders—we can concentrate on finding Reeve and freeing Terin.”

Torian nodded, hesitantly.

Emariya smiled. At least he hadn’t balked at the mention of freeing Terin. She’d avoided mentioning his sister for much of their journey, unable to take the walls of ice it created between the two of them. Instead, she intended to rely on his love for his sister. Surely, once Terin had been freed of Reeve’s clutches and reunited with Torian, the prince would put aside notions of what he thought he had to do. “And then we can go home to Castle Ahlen.”

“And live happily ever after?” Torian whispered.

“Mmmhmm. And live happily ever after.”
All of us,
she silently added as she leaned in to kiss him, feeling like she’d finally began to cross some of the distance that had grown between them.

Emariya kept the promise of happily-ever-after in her mind as she stood before the large gray stone gate of Damphries, cloaked in the wavering light of the rising sun.

Garith gave her an encouraging smile. “Riya, the Councilors are used to their High Seat being firm, confident and in control. I think you should make it a point to be more demanding and less of your normal, gracious self. Make it clear that you expect Lord Damphries to follow you without question.”

She raised a skeptical eyebrow as Blaine tried not to chuckle.

“State your presence,” a loud, clear voice sounded from a watchtower near the gate, cutting off her chance to reply. She wanted to inspire confidence and loyalty. Was acting entitled really the way to do that?

Trust your instincts,
her father advised her.

Emariya smiled. With her father in her ear helping her, she was sure to be successful.

“It is Lady Emariya Warren, daughter of Lord Oren Warren. I bring news of my father.” She expected the gate to begin rumbling upwards immediately; after all, she’d sent word ahead of her arrival by pigeon. Yet, the gate made no noise, remaining stubbornly still and firmly closed.

Time to try Garith’s suggestion. “In the name of the High Seat of the Great Council of Eltar, open this gate, sir!”

Screaming to life, the chains connected to the gate began to slide and slowly the stone lifted, granting them passage.

“Well don’t take all day about it, wouldn’t want the heathens out there to get in with you. Hurry now,” a guard called out.

Emariya’s heart skipped with sudden, unexpected nerves as the gate protested behind her, lowering back into place, shutting her inside.

Two men with scabbards hanging at their sides led them toward the front entrance of the estate.

Though Damphries was smaller than Warren’s Rest, its fortress-like design made it feel more imposing.

“Have you had much trouble with the people outside trying to get in?” Torian asked as they crossed the courtyard.

The armed man to Emariya’s left grunted something in acknowledgment, but neither spoke. Up ahead, an aged man waited on the steps. He didn’t smile as they approached, and Emariya couldn’t recall his name. She thought he was in Lord Damphries’ service, but she couldn’t remember for certain.

“Where is Councilor Damphries?” she asked. “I’d like to seek audience with him at once.”

Don’t go in! Run!
Her father’s warning came too late. As soon as she’d crossed the threshold, the two escorts grabbed her and Torian while several more who had been waiting in the open foyer seized Blaine and Garith.

Torian’s hand went to his sword, but he was unable to draw it before an additional soldier pinned him against the wall.

“Torian!” Emariya cried out as rough hands jerked her away from him. He grunted, but his eyes told her he was all right, unharmed but angry.

Father, what do I do?
She mentally reached for her father’s presence.

Guard your mind,
came his only answer. Not knowing what danger he sensed, she did as he suggested, letting her connection close. In doing so, she not only shut out anyone—such as her mother

—who might wish her harm, but also her only guidance. Nor could she send a message to her grandparents.

Emariya watched helplessly as Torian and the other men were stripped of their weapons and led roughly down the hallway. “Put them in the dungeon. Take her to see Lord Damphries.”

Torian had twisted as much as his captors allowed him to, watching her over his shoulder. His eyes were those of a rabid animal. “Don’t you touch her. Don’t you dare touch her!”

Garith, too, struggled, though it was no use. It was all Emariya could manage to do not to trip over the hem of her gown as they led her away.

By the time she was shoved roughly through the doorway of Lord Damphries’ study, she’d regained her balance and some of her wits. The candle flickering on his desk answered her query and she knew that at the least, she had one ally in the room. She struggled to appear unruffled.

“Councilor Damphries,” she addressed the middle-aged man sitting in his high-backed chair behind the wooden desk. “This welcome is severely lacking. I am the daughter of Lord Oren Warren, and my father has appointed me to his spot in the High Seat. Furthermore, I will one day be queen of Thalmas. How dare you welcome me and my companions in such a fashion?”

“So it is true?”

“What are you referencing?” She spoke guardedly. Something in his tone made it sound as if he were accusing her of something.

“You truly are claiming that your father left you to run the Council?” Lord Damphries sat back in his chair, his pale features painted with disappointment.

Emariya let out the breath she’d been holding, relaxing. “Oh, good. You received my letter then.”

“I’m afraid not, but I’ve learned nonetheless about your absurd claims.” He wagged his finger at her indignantly.

“Well, I have my father’s original proclamation. You can see for yourself.”

Damphries took the scroll she offered, and paled while reading it. He rolled it up, but didn’t offer it back to her.

“Young lady, I suggest you reconsider your claim. I’ve not put you in the dungeon with your colleagues out of my great esteem for your father, but unless you recant your story immediately, I’m afraid you will be tried for treason.”

“Treason!” she shouted, jumping up from her chair. The flame from the candle flickered in response to her anger. She resisted the urge to send a spark toward Lord Damphries’ beard.

The two guards snatched her by the arms. Lord Damphries trembled as he stood, waving his hand toward the door. “Put her with the others.” Her struggles were useless. She tried to comfort herself with knowing that at least they were taking her back to Garith and Torian.

A musty, stale odor permeated the dungeon, and Emariya had to resist the urge to gag. Torian bolted to his feet, grabbing the bars of his cell. One of the guards drew his sword. “Get back from the door, with the rest of them.” The guard waved his blade in Torian’s direction.

Torian backed away, keeping his eyes on the guard.

A hard shove pushed her in, but Torian’s strong arms caught her. Garith closed in by her side.

“Did they hurt you?” Torian’s eyes were anxious as he tried to wipe away her angry tears.

“No.” Emariya shook her head. “But he didn’t believe me, either.”

“About your father?”

She nodded. “He didn’t get our pigeon. I showed him my copy, but he didn’t believe it was real.”

Emariya’s hand flew to the pocket inside her cloak. “Oh no! He kept my copy of Father’s orders, too.

Now I’ve no proof.”

Blaine, leaning against the wall in the corner, spoke up. “You had several witnesses.”

“Well,” Emariya paused to sniffle, “let’s hope they ask them, because he said I’m to be tried for treason.”

“That’s absurd!” Garith exclaimed.

“I know. But what’s stranger is it’s like this was all planned. But if he didn’t get the bird, how did he know what I was coming to tell him?”

“I’ll contact Kahl, through a go-between. They’ll get us out.” Blaine closed his eyes.

“No!” Emariya rushed across the small cell, grabbing his arm.

Blaine’s eyes popped open. “What’s wrong?”

“My father warned me to guard my mind. I think my mother may be close as well.”

“Then she’s probably looking for an opening into your mind, not mine.”

“Do you really want to risk it?” Torian asked.

“It’s better than rotting in here.”

Garith sighed. “Think, Blaine. We need to see the full Council. If Councilor Damphries knew why Riya was coming, but didn’t get her bird, Reeve must have told a different version of events.”

“To try me, they have to call the Council together anyway. And if Reeve is trying to claim treason, and that I’m not entitled to take my father’s seat, he too has to appear with the Council,” Emariya added.

“So then we can convince the Council of the truth of what we’ve got to say, and confront Reeve all at once.” Garith settled himself on the floor, up against the wall. He shrugged in response to Emariya’s inquisitive look, as if to say that they might as well get comfortable.

“It’s not how I would have liked to accomplish it, but we may still come out the benefactor of their scheme.” Emariya glanced at the grimy floor. Her tired feet won out over her sense of disgust and she also settled herself against the wall.

Torian crouched gingerly next to her. “So you want to wait then, and allow them to try you?”

Emariya nodded. “We could get out of here, if we wanted. Between our forces outside, and my gifts, we have the means. I’d rather have the opportunity to corner my brother.”

Blaine huffed angrily. “So you expect us to rot in a cell, while we wait for your brother to show up with the rest of the Council?”

“No. Well yes, for rotting in a cell. But as to my brother, no, I expect he is already here.” Emariya stared at the ancient stone wall opposite her. Somewhere, close by, Reeve waited. Before she was done, it would be him rotting in a wretched cell. She’d be sure to show him the same courtesy he’d shown their father.

Garith, who looked to be considering the idea with more enthusiasm than Torian, still wasn’t convinced. “I don’t know Riya, what if you’re found guilty?”

Emariya shuddered involuntarily. “I don’t intend to let it go that far.”

“And if you are?” Torian asked. “What’s the penalty in Eltar for treason?”

“Death.” Emariya tried not to think about what she was saying. It wasn’t like she would actually be found guilty. These were people who’d seen her grow up. They knew her. Right?
They know your
brother, too,
a small thought inside her head cautioned.

The next several days blurred together, as there was not much for them to do other than sleep and wait and pace. Of all of them, Blaine was the most restless. Several times, Emariya’s own resolve not to open her mind to her father or any other spirits nearly wavered. Not knowing what was happening above the dungeon acted as an excruciating form of torture.

For Emariya, a more humiliating factor of their imprisonment was being kept with three men, though she never complained—it would be much worse to be separated from them. They each did their best to provide privacy for each other, especially her, but it wasn’t easy.

From her best guess, nearly a week had passed when the dungeon door opened, revealing not the guard who delivered their meals each day, but Lord Damphries himself. Despite her anxiety to be free of her tiny cage, the Councilor’s pleas fell on deaf ears.