Legacy (30 page)

My father disentangled his arm from mine. Indicating with his hand that I was not to follow, he bustled down the hall toward the quarreling pair.

“My patrols have reported no sign of the Cokyri,” Cannan said, glowering down at London. He took an additional step toward his vexatious Elite Guard so that naught but a foot was
between them. “And you will
not
challenge my authority in this way.”

“Then in what way shall I challenge it?” London responded.

“You will show me proper respect and address me as ‘sir' or ‘captain,' or you will find yourself confined to quarters.”

It was clear that Cannan's patience with London's disregard for chain of command, as well as his propensity to issue orders to his commanding officer, was growing thin.

“Then I will catch up on my reading until the next time you need me to deal with a crisis. But when that time comes, you may find me unwilling to—”

London did not finish his sentence, as he had become aware of my father's presence. Tossing his captain one final defiant glare, he turned and stalked through the front doors and out into the Central Courtyard.

My father and Cannan spoke then, but they were too far away for me to overhear their conversation. As the captain glanced in my direction, I shifted self-consciously, wondering if I should continue to wait. I did not have long to ponder the matter, however, for my father returned to my side.

“Forgive me, my dear, but I will have to cancel our tea. More pressing affairs, I am afraid.”

“That's all right,” I assured him, noticing that Cannan had remained in the Grand Entry, waiting for the King.

“Would you like me to request an escort for you?”

“Thank you, Father, but there is no need, as I plan to return to my quarters.”

I flashed my father a pleasant smile and took his arm to walk down the corridor toward the Grand Staircase. As I left my father's side and walked past Cannan, his troubled expression made me uneasy, and fear began to mushroom inside me at the thought of London's dark prediction.

 

Early the next morning, I was sipping tea at a table in front of the bay window in the first-floor tearoom, passing the time, for the drizzle falling on the shriveled foliage outside was limiting my options for the day. I planned to visit Narian in the afternoon and had invited Miranna to join me, both for the company she would provide and as a chaperone. Although Destari would have been satisfactory in the latter capacity, I intended to leave him in the corridor, for I knew Narian would not speak freely in his presence.

As I drank, my mind revisited the argument I had witnessed between Cannan and London. I was entertaining the idea that I should ask Destari, who stood near the fireplace, about the incident, when London strode into the room.

“No one has entered the city this morning, no patrols have reported to Cannan, no villagers have sought sanctuary—no one. I do not believe anyone survived the night.”

Destari inclined his head in my direction, silently asking whether they should talk in front of me. London merely nodded, too distracted to take much notice.

“Do you know how many were brought into the city yesterday?” Destari inquired.

“Perhaps two thousand, but hundreds were left at risk. I intend to ride out to the countryside to judge the conditions for myself.” An undertone of anger had entered London's voice.

“I will ride with you,” Destari said automatically.

“No. I suspect it will be dangerous, and there is no need to put both of our lives in jeopardy.”

My heart leapt to my throat, but I kept my silence.

“I will see you upon my return.”

As London left, fear again enveloped me, and I sought
refuge in my bedroom. Every ten to fifteen minutes, I braved the damp chill of the balcony to watch for movement on the other side of the city's walls, but the landscape was oddly static, no signs even of smoke coming from the distant homes.

Stepping out onto my balcony for the dozenth time, I spied a rider approaching at a gallop. I rushed from my rooms, startling Destari in the process.

“London is coming!”

He caught me by the arm as I turned away to head toward the landing of the Grand Staircase.

“I'm not sure this is your business,” he said, and I rounded on him.

“Everyone in Hytanica, including me, has the right to know what is happening. It is not just the lives of soldiers that are at stake.”

He released me, frustrated by his inability to deny my assertion, and we hastened down the corridor.

“Cannan!” London bellowed as he entered the palace. Pointing to one of the guards stationed by the door, he said, “Find Cannan for me. Now!”

“I am right here.” I heard Cannan's dangerously calm voice and saw him emerge from his office through the guardroom as I halted on the landing, mesmerized by the confrontation taking place below.

“Are you aware no one has entered the city this morning?” London raged, stalking toward his commanding officer. “Well, I can supply you with the reason! They're dead, all dead! Soldiers, villagers, men, women and children, even animals, all slaughtered sometime during the night. And the riverbanks are crawling with the enemy.” Cannan's dark eyes locked upon London's indigo ones as the Elite Guard finished, “I would consider
that
to be a sign of the Cokyri.”

“We will not discuss this here,” Cannan said in a mighty struggle to control his temper. “You will come with me to report to the King.”

“I will take men out to collect the bodies for proper burial while there is still time to do so.
You
can inform the King of how well your strategy is working.”

London turned his back on his captain, but Cannan reached out and grabbed the collar of his leather jerkin, pulling him roughly around. “You
will
come with me,” he declared. He signaled to the guards by the door, who took a step forward, and his meaning became clear.

London said nothing, but his hands slowly came to rest on the hilts of his long knives. It was then that Destari rushed down the stairs, intent on ending the altercation before someone got hurt.

“London, what our captain
requests
makes sense,” Destari asserted, moving to his friend's side and putting a hand on his shoulder. Then Destari spoke to Cannan. “Sir, I would like to take a detail of men to recover the bodies of the fallen for burial.”

A long and agonizing moment passed as London and Cannan continued to glare at each other.

“Permission granted,” Cannan finally said.

Breaking eye contact with the captain, London shifted his gaze to Destari, and some of the tension left his frame as he deliberately acquiesced to his friend rather than to Cannan. He then marched passed his captain, heading into the antechamber that led to the Throne Room. Waving off his guards, Cannan followed.

Destari returned to my side and pried my hands from the
railing; it was only then that I realized how fiercely I had been gripping it.

“Let me take you back to your quarters,” he prompted, placing a hand on my arm to direct me down the corridor. I did not object, too horrified at the news to care where we were going.

IT WAS A FEW HOURS LATER THAT MIRANNA joined me on the walk to Narian's quarters. Although Halias was with her, I was, for once, without a bodyguard, as Destari had left to oversee the recovery of the bodies of the slaughtered Hytanicans.

“Is something wrong?” my sister asked, noticing my mood.

“The people who were in the villages last night were murdered,” I explained, a fresh wave of anger breaking over me. “Cokyri took its revenge on the defenseless. They slaughtered not just soldiers, but men, women and
children
as well.”

“I did not know,” Miranna murmured.

“How can they act so savagely?” I demanded, my anger escalating. “How can they look into a child's eyes and show no mercy? They are no better than animals—they are
worse.
Even animals don't kill indiscriminately!”

Miranna examined me worriedly, as she had never before heard such venom in my voice.

By the time we reached Narian's room, I was almost shaking with the effort to suppress my rage. As my eyes fell upon him, the knowledge that he had been raised among the Cokyrians,
the people who had committed these unthinkable atrocities, was uppermost in my mind and I unleashed my wrath upon him.

“Do you know what your countrymen did last night?” I lashed out. “Our people have been massacred—our men, our women, our innocent children! And all because we thwarted their effort to take you!”

Narian's face clouded over, and he slid off the edge of the bed, a book falling from his lap to the floor with a thump and a rustle of pages.

“They are not my countrymen,” he bitterly corrected. “And both London and I advised the Captain of the Guard of their likely actions.” He let his words hang in the air, then finished, “This is war, Alera, and war is neither fair nor pretty.”

Another pause ensued, during which he looked straight into my eyes until I could no longer meet his gaze.

“If it is your desire that I leave Hytanica, tell me, and I will,” he added, his voice resolute.

A range of emotions churned within me until my anger broke, leaving me weak and trembling.

“I'm sorry,” I murmured. “I do not wish for you to leave.”

He searched my face, looking for the truth, then said, “Come sit. Both of you.”

Miranna and I took up chairs near him and he returned to his cross-legged position upon the bed, but our conversation was stilted, and the mood in the room remained bleak.

“Maybe we should go,” I finally said, after a long and awkward silence.

“I will be up and around the palace tomorrow,” Narian offered, his eyes upon me. “Perhaps we will meet under less strained circumstances.”

“Perhaps,” I said, and I departed with my sister, Halias falling into step behind us.

“You cannot blame Narian for what the Cokyrians did last night,” Miranna said. “Although,” she continued, furrowing her brow, “I don't understand why they are so insistent upon his return.”

She stopped and faced Halias, the fingers of her left hand entwined in her strawberry-blond hair.

“Do you know of a reason for the Cokyrians to be so obsessed with recovering Narian?”

“I do not.” Halias shrugged, his answer no doubt honest.

“I'm not sure that is our concern,” I interjected, trying to quash my sister's inquisitiveness.

I saw Halias raise his eyebrows, and I knew he was thinking that I was not one to leave well enough alone. I decided it was time to move on, and took Miranna's hand to lead her to her quarters. As we reached the door to her parlor, she tugged me inside, leaving Halias standing in the corridor.

“What is going on between you and Narian?” she queried, without any preliminaries.

“What do you mean?” I answered guardedly, though I knew my reddening cheeks would give me away.

“Come now, Sister,” she coaxed, pulling me down to sit next to her on the deep blue velvet sofa. “I know you too well not to recognize the signs.” She grew yet more serious as she continued, “You were much too nervous while he was missing, much too eager to see him upon his return, and your outburst just now was a bit extreme. So, it's time to confess.”

My thoughts were scrambled—I knew I could trust her, yet did not want to tell her some of the secrets Narian and I shared.
I felt as though the clandestine time I had spent with him would be spoiled if anyone else knew about our meetings.

“I have come to enjoy his company.”

“Have you kissed?” she audaciously asked.

I once again knew that my rising color would give me away.

“Ye-e-es,” I drew the word out as though that would prevent her from pursuing the matter.

“More than once?”

“Yes,” I said, slightly irritated that she was clinging to the topic. As she waited, a knowing smile upon her lips, I continued, “He is very warm and considerate, and he treats me differently from the way Steldor or any of the other young men I know treat me.”

“‘Differently' in what way?”

“With more respect. He listens to me, giving me his full and undivided attention, and he values my knowledge and advice.”

“Well, that would be a bit different from Steldor,” she admitted with a laugh. “So are you going to talk to Father? After all, he has given Steldor alone permission to court you—he would be very unhappy to find that someone else is secretly doing the same.”

“I would, but just yesterday, Father made his opinion of Narian known.”

At her puzzled glance, I elaborated.

“Father came to my quarters so that I might accompany him on a visit to Narian. He said that he has come to know of signs of affection between Narian and me, but that he assumes they are signs of friendship. He said that he would not view Narian as an appropriate suitor.” I sighed heavily before continuing. “Even I admit that Narian does not meet any of
Father's criteria. He is too young, owns nothing but the shirt on his back and has a questionable military background.”

As was her habit, Miranna played with a strand of hair while she considered how to reply.

“I know you don't want to hear this, but if that is the way Father feels, then you should perhaps limit your contact with Narian. Otherwise, you may be setting yourself up for heart-ache.” Her manner was gentle, but her aspect was unusually serious.

“You are right, of course. But I'm not sure I'll be able to keep my distance.”

“Then at least stop kissing him!” she admonished. “Just try to keep your relationship one of simple friendship. That shouldn't be asking too much, as I doubt you have many opportunities to be alone with him.”

I couldn't help but smile, knowing how wrong she was. I quickly changed the subject before she could begin to quiz me about the
where
and
when
of the times Narian and I had kissed.

“So tell me about the romance you seem to have under way with Temerson.”

It was finally my sister's turn to blush, and despite the undercurrent of tension recent events had created, we spent the next half hour pleasantly discussing the young man in her life.

I left Miranna's quarters shortly thereafter, longing to take advantage of my lack of a bodyguard and the freedom it provided with a brief stroll outside, but the rain had continued to drizzle down Miranna's windows while we had conversed. Nonetheless, I did not want to return to my rooms, so I chose to visit the main floor's eastern wing, perhaps to find my mother in her drawing room. As I came down the hall, I heard
the creak of the chapel door ahead. Thinking the Queen had gone to pray (and recognizing that I might benefit as well from a consultation with our Lord), I went to the heavy doors and laid my hand upon one, an instant away from pushing it open. I stopped cold when I heard not my mother within, but London's troubled voice. After glancing back down the deserted hall, I leaned my ear to the crack.

“For the moment, Narian wants to remain in Hytanica, but we must contend with the possibility that he will return to Cokyri once he accepts that he cannot be with Alera.”

“I take it you do not trust him.” It was Destari who responded.

“No, I don't. I think he stays only because of his interest in her. He really has no other ties to Hytanica. He is alienated from his family and has turned down Cannan's offer to enroll in the Military Academy.”

“And if he tries to leave, what do we do?”

“If he tries to return to Cokyri…” London trailed off, and I strained to hear more, daring to open the door an inch so I could peer at the two guards through the gap. An ominous silence hung until London continued, “We must be prepared to take drastic measures. Even the most drastic of all. We must be prepared to end his life, if necessary, to preclude his return. Would you be willing to do that, knowing that we could be accused of murder? Knowing that we could be hanged for our actions?”

“My duty is to protect Hytanica, and I will do so even if it means I forfeit my life,” Destari avowed without hesitation.

“Good. But let's pray it does not come to that.”

The two men clasped arms before going their separate ways, and I dashed into the Music Room, where I sank to the floor, horror-struck at what I had overheard. Not wanting Destari
to search for me, but knowing that he would soon learn that I was out and about the palace, I willed my racing blood to slow and attempted to regain some semblance of composure. After several gulps of air, I slipped into the corridor, driving my fingernails into my palms in the hope that physical pain would hold my anger and despair in check. As I reached the second floor, feeling as though my world were awry, I saw Destari coming toward me.

“Alera,” he said pleasantly, “I just came to find you.” As he took in my ashen complexion, a peculiar look crossed his face. “Is something wrong?”

“No, I'm fine. My mother just wanted to talk to me for a minute.”

I ground out the necessary lie without stopping, continuing past him with my eyes focused straight ahead. Although he fell into step with me, I chose to ignore him until we reached my quarters.

“I won't be in further need of you tonight.” I turned toward him, my voice brittle. Before he could respond, I entered my parlor, slamming the door in his bewildered face.

I sought the sanctuary of my bedroom, tears stinging my eyes. Too disturbed to sit, I paced around and around the room, frenetic energy coursing through me as I railed against Destari and London in my head. Once my rage subsided, fear for Narian clutched at me, and my breathing became fast and shallow. Certain that my rib cage was attempting to crush my lungs, I sank onto my bed, feeling dizzy and trying to control the panic that threatened to immobilize me. Then anger again blazed white-hot, scorching my insides, as a sense of betrayal stole over me at how callously London and Destari had conceived of their plan. I stood and resumed my pacing, my temples throbbing.

For the first time in my life I wanted to throw and break something, but what I really wanted to break was not an object, but the prejudice that kept London from seeing Narian as he really was. As my anger turned to despair, I sat again on my bed, twining my fingers, the emotional battle within tearing me apart. Just when I thought I could endure no more, my torment poured itself out in a rain of tears, and I fell sobbing against my pillow.

 

I slept fitfully that night and my efforts in the morning to control my emotions were fruitless, as I obsessed over what I had heard the men discussing in the library. I sent for London, and by the time he entered my parlor, I was pacing, my feet almost burning a path in the rug that lay in front of the sofa. Before he could open his mouth, I attacked him.

“I was in the East Wing last night and heard every word you said to Destari. How can you possibly suggest taking Narian's life?”

My hands were shaking and I tottered on the edge of hysterics as I advanced on him.

“Sit down and calm down, Alera,” he said, instinctively taking control.

I shook my head, then continued, my whole body atremble.

“He is innocent in all of this! He did not choose his destiny any more than I chose to be Crown Princess. Our situations are but accidents of birth!” I was almost screeching as my emotions stretched taut my vocal cords. “Narian will
not
return to Cokyri. You do not know him as I do, and are grievously misjudging him. He is our friend and wants only the best for me and for Hytanica.”

“Perhaps you are right,” London said, alarmed at my ex
cited state. “Now, come and sit down, and we can talk about this.”

I took a shuddering breath, somewhat calmer in the aftermath of my outburst, and permitted him to lead me to the sofa. I sat, not feeling the least bit friendly toward him, and watched with narrowed eyes as he settled beside me.

“Destari and I were discussing an option of last resort if we need to prevent Narian's return to Cokyri. If I am wrong about him, then neither you nor he has anything to fear.”

My hysteria subsided as London spoke, but my hurt did not. We sat in silence as he continued to let my dark emotions drain away. After a long moment, he made his position known.

“You must understand, Alera, that I am a soldier of Hytanica and a member of the King's Elite Guard. I have sworn an oath to protect the King and the people of this kingdom, and I will take whatever action is necessary to do so.”

I gaped at him, feeling as though I no longer knew him.

“We have nothing more to discuss,” I said coldly, dismissing him.

London shook his head in frustration, then stood and strode from the room.

 

As news of Cokyri's brutal assault spread, the holiday celebrations came to an end. The victims of the slaughter had been buried in several mass graves, and panic now permeated the overcrowded city. Panic turned to terror once it became clear over the following few weeks that Cokyri's strategy would be to contain us and starve us into submission, as no one, not even Hytanica's soldiers, could leave the city and safely return. Men who were sent to Gourhan, Emotana and Sarterad in search of aid were restored to us as corpses. The dreary, and often rainy, view from my balcony now included Cokyrian
soldiers moving about our lands, and at night I could see the fires from their encampments.