CHOSEN (21 page)

Lady Liselle moved out of the way and Ambrose took her place on the footstool, pulling his daughter into his arms while he waited for Kamien to come out with it.

“She overheard Governor Alse,” he said, and Ambrose understood his reluctance.

Shalis looked up at him, sniffling and hardly able to speak. “He said Dynan...wasn’t going to live...and the sooner people got used to the idea...the sooner we could move on and solve the problem...of who would be heir. He said Kamien had to be, but he won’t.”

With that she reached over with a balled fist and hit him on the leg. “I can’t do it, Shalis,” Kamien said to her. “And I don’t want to.”

“Well I don’t either. It’s supposed to be Dynan. It can’t be anyone else. He can’t die.”

She tried to hit him again, but Ambrose caught her by the wrist.

“And he isn’t going to,” he said as calmly as he could manage, trying to put away a seething anger toward Governor Alse for putting his daughter through this anguish. “Shalis, stop. The Governor doesn’t know what he’s talking about. Dynan is going to make it through this.”

“Do you promise?”

“As well as I can. I don’t want you to think any thing else, please. Your brother needs us all to be with him, and positive. So no more crying. You can’t see him when you’re upset like this.”

“You’re going to let me see him?”

“In the morning. You need to sleep now. You have to stop getting up in the middle of the night like this.”

He gathered her up and stood with her, something that was getting harder to do since she was getting taller every other day. He put her back in the room they’d prepared for her that had a bed and a chest of drawers, tucking her under the covers. Her Lady in Waiting dutifully followed, wearing something that completely covered her this time.

“Now go to sleep, Shalis. Dream that your brother is going to be better in the morning. Keep dreaming it.”

“All right, Poppe.”

“Go to sleep.”

He waited a moment or two while her eyes drifted closed, putting off anger until he was sure his daughter would stay put. It didn’t take long. The combination of exhaustion from the tears and having her hair smoothed worked quickly.

He glanced at Liselle while he waited and saw her wiping tears from her eyes. She noticed and tried to hide the fact she was crying. For women in her position, displays of emotion were frowned on, an institutional belief Ambrose found ridiculous. He couldn’t blame her for being raised that way.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“He is going to be all right,” he said, and found that saying it made him feel better about it being possible. He thought of something that might bring her some level of comfort. “He said he talked to you.”

Liselle adjusted the covers around Shalis and nodded. “A little. Once he stopped worrying so much, it wasn’t too difficult. Or it didn’t seem so.”

“You’ll have to watch out for Dain,” Ambrose said. and then had to rub his own eyes. That was more from weariness, he told himself. “It will seem like he can’t stand you. Don’t take it personally. He’s rebelling against the culture, or something. I don’t know.”

“I’m not worried about Dain,” she said, and her eyes dragged closed.

“Well if he doesn’t drive you off by insult, he’ll turn those considerable charms on you. It’s how he gets what he wants.”

“I noticed,” she said and then looked to see if Shalis was asleep. “When you asked me to come here and help Dynan, I wasn’t prepared to like him so much. He’s very sweet. It may not mean much coming from me, but, you’ve raised your son well, Your Majesty.”

“Just the one?” he asked with a slight smile.

“Just the one is all I’m concerned with,” she said and suppressed a yawn. “Goodnight, Sir.”

Ambrose nodded to that and left her.

Kamien was waiting. There were days Ambrose couldn't look at him without thinking about his first wife. Kamien took after his mother quite a bit in looks, but he lacked the conniving aspect of her personality, and her murderous inclinations. It wasn’t so long ago Kamien learned the full nature of her betrayal. Thinking of her brought thoughts of Governor Alse to mind, considering his alleged involvement, along with anger over the audacity of the man.

“Did Alse really say those things?” Ambrose asked as he walked. “Here?”

“Shalis and I were coming back from a walk and a drink of water. Alse was talking with Governor Vindal and Governor Messeric,” Kamien said quietly, “and he shouldn’t have been, obviously, but you—”

“I’m not going to have it. I’m not going to stand talk of it.” Ambrose stopped a moment because of the nature of this particular subject. “You know if I could change what my father did, I would.”

“It’s a binding resolution,” Kamien said. That meant it couldn’t be changed. Not without all the Regional Governors in agreement. Even trying would throw into question the stability of the monarchy, and thus the Cobalt System.

“You know I would change it,” Ambrose said again. “This isn’t about you, or your place in this family.”

“It’s about Governor Alse’s bid for power. I know. I don’t want the job. No one believes me when I say that, but I don’t. I’ve grown up knowing it would never be my job. I’ll go to Governor Alse and tell him I’ll refuse it even if it was handed to me, if you'd like.”

Ambrose nodded to that. “You’re the only sane one among us. I’ll talk to the Governor.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“I’m going to anyway,” he said.

Melgan Lon was the next to suspect a problem. Ambrose hadn’t left Dynan’s side for three days, except once, so the Captain was surprised to see him now, and by the way his eyes shifted back and forth he was trying to think why. Melgan was as politically astute as the next guy. He reasoned it out.

“Wait.”

“I’m going for some air.”

“No, you’re not,” Melgan said, though he didn’t try to stop him.

Brendin was posted at the far corner and he knew. “I’m sorry.”

Ambrose waved him off and kept going. Alse wouldn’t have gone too far. It seemed likely he was counting on Ambrose hearing about this affront, and would fully expect some sort of response.

Ambrose stopped just short of the exit from the family section, which was nothing more than one hall intersecting with another, and paused to consider that last thought. “Where were they?”

“Here,” Brendin said. “He walked in with Vindal and Messeric. I was at the other end of the hall until I realized what they were saying. Shalis was in this little side room. I don’t think Alse knew she was—”

“He knew it. She wasn’t the target though,” Ambrose said, and glanced back at Kamien who was following.

“What does he think Kamien is going to do?” Brendin asked. “Alse knows what’s in the resolution.”

“Maybe he thinks he can have it overturned.”

“Governor Taldic would disagree.”

Ambrose nodded. “Maybe that’s the point, the ulterior motive to the whole thing; to put me at odds with Governor Taldic.”

“Or with Kamien,” Melgan said, glancing back at him too. Kamien’s response to that was to roll his eyes.

“All aimed to give Alse the leverage he wants,” Brendin said.

“That’s only if he can actually have Kamien reinstated,” Ambrose said. “If he really has the support for it. He knows I wouldn’t oppose it.”

“He’s trolling,” Brendin said. “And if you go out there-”

“I’ll put myself in the position of having to listen to him,” Ambrose said. He turned around and started walking back the way he came. “Melgan, I want the perimeter expanded to include the closest exit and all the halls from here to there. No one but Palace staff, Medics, and family beyond that point. There are health concerns about possible contaminants being tracked in. That’ll be my answer to Governor Alse.”

He stopped at the doorway that would take him back to Dynan’s room, weariness descending like Melgan’s chainmail across his shoulders. Ambrose leaned against the doorframe, activating the first of three decontamination fields. They couldn’t be avoided, there to fight the real danger of infection that could kill his son.

Ambrose decided just then that he really did need some air, and turned back around again. Kamien almost ran into him. “What now?”

“I’m going out.”

“You’re looking for a fight,” Kamien said.

“Melgan is going to go make sure the area is clear of anyone I shouldn’t be around right now,” Ambrose said, looking to his Captain, who turned to go do that. “Care to join me?”

“Not really.” Kamien nodded to Dynan’s rooms. “I’ll sit with him.”

“What will you do when they find out you were worried?” Ambrose said, smiling at the glare he got for that.

“They won’t believe you, so say whatever you like.”

“Send Roth out. I know he needs some air.”

Kamien nodded, and a moment later Roth took his place, walking with him down the hall toward the door. Ambrose stopped at the new demarcation line, which was another intersection down another hall.

Glancing that way, beyond the very large guard posted to keep everyone out, Ambrose saw the High Bishop talking to a man and woman. She was crying. Gradyn was trying to give her some comfort, speaking to her in a low tone. Whatever affliction had struck him during the oath ceremony, he seemed recovered from. For the last three days, the High Bishop had remained, coming into Dynan’s room every morning to offer up a prayer for his recovery.

“I wish he’d crawl back into his cave,” Ambrose muttered to himself but Roth heard him and chuckled under his breath.

“It’s not every day that regular people have the attention of the High Bishop. They’ve been extremely grateful for his presence.”

“Meaning I ought to be?” Ambrose said, and turned the corner for the door. More guards were on the other side, standing out in the cold. “I don’t like that he’s waiting here for news, good or bad. There are too many memories.”

“He’s just trying to help,” Roth said, looking out at the glaring lights that brightened night to day on the other side of the property fence.

Masses of people stood waiting on the other side, and behind other barricades that had been erected to keep them back. The Information Bureau was set up and broadcasting on a continual basis.

Ambrose had known and approved it, but he hadn’t known about the sheer numbers of people who had gathered. They were everywhere he looked. A line of them snaked into the compound to a place where the guards stood, stopping them while the King was outside. They carried flowers in their arms by the bundle or by just one. They had notes in hand and candles waiting to be lit.

“You should have told me,” Ambrose said.

He hadn’t been thinking about being seen. There was a sense of vulnerability in being in front of these people that he hadn’t known in a long time, not since he was Dynan’s age. He remembered what it was like being that exposed, and thought about the things he’d said to his son about it.

“Like the High Bishop,” Roth said, “they are only trying to offer what comfort they can, even if it’s only a prayer.”

“I told him he had to get over it,” Ambrose said, thinking of Dynan, and then he had to explain. “I told him the day of his oath and he was mad when we all barged in on him the first time he’s ever talked to a girl. He was mad because he didn’t want to take that oath as the High Bishop...the High Bishop suggested.”

His voice trailed off and he heard his father’s voice telling him of the death of the anointed child and his eternal torture on the altar of darkness.

“Ambrose?” Roth set a hand on his arm.

“Maybe we should go back inside,” Brendin said.

“No, I’m just tired,” Ambrose said, shaking the images from his head and chiding himself for allowing coincidence to so affect his thinking. “That’s all. The cold feels good. I’m fine.”

“Then you should go look,” Roth said, pointing down the side of the building to an area made for people to go sit in fine weather. There were walkways and benches and trees that were now completely bereft of leaves, but in warm weather provided ample shade.

In every space off the walks there were flowers and printed messages. There were piles and piles of them stacked up in the snow drifts along the iron fence that went the length of the block, eight kem deep and at least three high. They were imported from the other side of the world where it was spring. The fragrance of them filtering through the frozen air was pungent and full of memories.

“There are thousands of them.”

Ambrose turned, and Melgan came over, a few of the notes in hand. Ambrose stood at the corner of the building looking down the block at the display. “You should get Ames and Lyle, and the rest of the boys out here to collect the notes. Give them something to do other than sit.”

Melgan held up the cards in his hand, pulling one out to hand over. “One of these is from a twelve-year-old who wants to marry him. She left her contact id. Another is a regular get well soon note. The other is indecent, from a sixteen-year-old. That’s the one you have.”

Ambrose laughed at the graphically detailed proposition and handed the note to Roth. “Someone needs to talk to that girl’s mother.”

“Well, that’ll make him feel better for sure,” Roth said, and gave the note to Brendin, whose mouth fell open and eyes widened as he read. He was the least jaded of them, and retained the capacity to be shocked.

“There’s no way she’s sixteen knowing about that,” he said and read it again.

Everyone laughed. It felt surprisingly good to have a second of amusement. Melgan looked behind him. “The High Bishop is coming over,” he said, and left to do guard things, stationing himself a short distance away.

Brendin handed the explicit note back to Roth as if he expected the High Bishop to catch him with it, making Ambrose laugh again. But they both abandoned him with deference to the old man as he joined them. It was difficult not to groan out loud.

“Your Majesty.” Gradyn nodded his head, looking to the display of flowers. “It’s quite an outpouring, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Eminence,” Ambrose said. “It’s nice.”

“And perhaps a comfort for you. Clerics from around the System and indeed all through Brittallia report Temples over flowing and prayer books filled to capacity. The whole Kingdom is thinking of you and your sons.”