Legacy (5 page)

“Yes, sir,” Tadark responded, but his sullen tone indicated he believed himself justified in making his point known.

Since there would no longer be an interrogation, I returned to my quarters laden with fresh worries that I desperately wanted someone to alleviate. How could our prisoner have escaped? My father had said it was impossible to break out of the dungeon. Had someone assisted her? But to what end?
The more I tried to think things through, the more confused I became and in the end succeeded only in giving myself a dreadful headache.

 

The next few days were hectic and a little jumbled in my memory. Cannan had again ordered heightened security within the palace, and Kade had doubled the number of guards stationed at every post and on every assignment. Perhaps more disconcerting, my sister and I were forbidden to leave the palace at any time, even to visit the garden.

Cannan must have taken to heart the inopportunely expressed conjectures of his young lieutenant because he ordered that no member of the royal family was to be left alone with a single guard. This meant that I was given a second personal bodyguard, and it was my misfortune that the man who received the assignment was none other than Tadark himself.

Tadark was at least two inches shorter than I, and several inches shorter than London, with well-kept sandy brown hair and brown eyes. He was baby-faced, which gave him an innocent and boyish look, although I knew he had to be in his late twenties. Unlike London, he dressed in the uniform of the Elite Guard, a double-breasted royal-blue doublet, white shirt and black breeches, and was obviously proud to have achieved the position. He wore the sword of the Elite Guard on his right hip, from which placement I surmised he was left-handed.

In many ways, Tadark was the opposite of London. He was superstitious and spoke often and at great length. While London tended to blend into the background, Tadark was constantly at my side, always telling me, “Watch out!” for this and, “Stay away!” from that. London, of course, found Tadark's methods comical, but I did not. By the end of the week, I was
ready to poison the annoying lieutenant. I began to speculate about how he had become a member of the Elite Guard and resolved to ask London at my earliest opportunity.

Morale inside the palace dropped throughout the week, and tempers flared as those who worked for the royal family started to suspect each other of having betrayed us in some way. Only Cannan, Kade, the members of the Elite Guard and the King knew the full details of the investigation. While this was probably necessary to maintain the integrity of the inquiry, it also ensured that tension in the palace remained high.

I was growing increasingly frustrated as London learned more and more about the state of affairs, while I was left in the dark. Although I was a member of the royal family, I had no more ability to gather information than did the palace staff, for princess or not, I was but a woman and had no need to be involved in military matters. This situation did little to allay my anxiety, and I disliked the feeling that I was a prisoner in my own home, especially when, given the possibility of a traitor among us, the danger inside was potentially as great as any that lurked outside the palace walls.

Then one day during the following week, an idea came to me. Steldor, as the captain's son and a troop commander himself, most likely knew a good deal of information relating to the Cokyrian woman's escape. It was also true that he loved to hear himself talk. Despite the revulsion I felt at the prospect, it was time for another date with Steldor.

“EXACTLY WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS AGAIN?” London asked for the third time in the last half hour.

We were about to leave my parlor so that I could spend the afternoon with Steldor in the Central Courtyard, but I stopped to face him, exasperated by his refusal to drop the subject.

“With all these new rules, the only way I could obtain my father's permission to go outside was to play upon his desire that I spend some time with Steldor.”

I wasn't being entirely forthcoming with London—though the palace seemed to shrink in on me with each passing day, this was not the reason I had arranged another rendezvous with the Captain of the Guard's son. I wanted to know what was going on, and Steldor was going to be my unwitting source.

“You're asking me to believe that you're willing to be alone with Steldor for hours just to get a little fresh air?” London said, one raised eyebrow punctuating his skepticism.

“London, you should be jumping at this opportunity, just as Tadark did. You are free of your duties for once and should be taking advantage of that, not trying to dissuade me from
my plans. And remember, this wasn't my decision. It was the King's. He has somehow acquired the idea that Steldor is a little put off by you, and thinks it would be best if the two of us spent some time together outside your presence. Besides, Steldor can protect me if the need arises, and there are dozens of guards stationed in the courtyard. So, go into the city! Do…whatever it is you do for entertainment. Be thankful that you finally have a day when you don't have to worry about me or my schedule.”

Guilt nipped at me for not being honest—I had been the one to tell my father that Steldor was uncomfortable around London—but if my bodyguard were allowed to chaperone me, he would figure out what I was doing and spoil any chance I might have for success.

“I still don't like it,” London said morosely. In a rare display of affection, he reached out a hand and brushed the backs of his fingers along my jawline. “And I can no more stop worrying about you than I can stop myself from breathing.”

I couldn't restrain my smile, despite my determination to stay firm.

“I know you don't like Steldor, or the King's decision, but you must comply with it.”

“It isn't just dislike. I don't trust him. Have you forgotten what he tried last time?”

I put my hands on my hips, my patience put to the test.

“He won't try anything out in the open in broad daylight, London. He's not that idiotic. And besides, Madam Matallia has consented to be our chaperone.”

Madam Matallia, plump but nevertheless pinched-faced, was the elderly woman who had been instructing Miranna and me in etiquette for the past twelve years and in household management for the last five. From what I understood, she
had also been my mother's instructor, although the madam now answered to her former student for my sister's and my behavior at various social functions.

“Madam Matallia? She'll be asleep under a shade tree within five minutes. And even if she's not, she adores Steldor. She'll purposefully look the other way in the hope that he kisses you!”

I again fought a smile, for Madam Matallia's infatuation with Steldor was precisely the reason I had requested her for a chaperone.

“And what of his
amazing
scent? How will you ever resist him?” London had moved to lean against the door, as though standing in front of it would make me forget where it was located.

Gnawing on my lower lip, I made one final attempt to mollify my bodyguard. “I know what I'm up against this time, so if he tries to kiss me, I'll slap him, all right?”

“Well, that would certainly be a new experience for him.”

As we left my quarters, London crossed his arms and sank into a stony silence. In an effort to dispel the tension, and since Tadark was not with us for once, I decided now was the time to ask about my younger guard.

“London, I've been wondering about something. Tadark doesn't seem to fit the mold of an Elite Guard. Do you know how he came to be one?”

My bodyguard uncrossed his arms and smiled a little, despite his dismal mood, and the discord between us eased.

“Well, that depends,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

“On what?”

“On which version you want to hear.”

“There's more than one?”

London nodded, his smile broadening into a grin. “Do you want to hear the official version, the one Tadark claims to be true, or an eyewitness account from another guard?”

“Begin with Tadark's, then tell me the other,” I prompted, sensing I was about to hear an interesting story.

We had reached the spiral staircase, but rather than proceeding down it, London rested his back against the wall.

“Tadark's placement in the Elite Guard occurred a few years ago and involved your mother. The Queen had been browsing the merchandise in the market, and was about to make a purchase when an imbecilic thief snatched her money pouch from her hands, bumping into her and knocking her to the ground. Her guards ensured she had not suffered injury before pursuing the man, so the cretin was given a head start…and then Tadark showed up on the scene. According to Tadark himself, he saw the thief assault the Queen, then gave chase, catching him, wrestling him to the ground and taking him into custody before the others could lend a hand.”

I almost laughed out loud at the notion of Tadark acting so heroically. “And the other version?”

“The beginning is very much the same,” London said, enjoying the telling of the tale. “It is in the circumstances surrounding Tadark's arrival that the accounts differ greatly. According to one of the Queen's own men, he and another guard pursued the thief. They were gaining ground on the man when Tadark, then a City Guard, stepped out from a side street. It would be correct to say that the thief did not see Tadark in time to avoid a collision. The criminal was knocked out, presumably from the impact of his head upon the ground, and the other guards arrested him while Tadark struggled to his feet.

“Tadark and the unlucky thief were brought before the Queen, who, naturally enough, assumed some act of bravery on Tadark's part. Upon her return to the palace, she insisted that he receive recognition for his ‘noble deed.' Cannan thereupon placed him in the training program for the Elite Guard. I have always suspected that some other issue was preoccupying the captain at the time, otherwise he would have come up with a less grand reward.”

London moved away from the wall, indicating with his hand that we should descend the stairs, and I obliged. As we stepped out into the first-floor corridor, he finished his story.

“I would guess Cannan never thought Tadark would complete the training program, for about half of those who enter drop out. But he made it through. Personally, I believe someone made a mistake in determining who was to be admitted to the Elite Guard that year, thus cursing us with the constant and aggravating presence of our dear friend Tadark. My only consolation is that he is unlikely to advance up the ranks of the Guard, always and forever remaining a lowly lieutenant.”

I was forced to stifle another laugh as we walked onto the mosaic stone floor of the Grand Entry Hall and saw both Madam Matallia, clutching a basket of embroidery, and Steldor, carelessly flipping his dagger, waiting for me.

Palace Guards pulled open the twin entrance doors, and Madam Matallia, her graying hair arranged into a precise bun, stepped over the threshold and out into the sunshine. Steldor sheathed his dagger and stepped forward to bow and kiss my hand, then smiled lazily at me, an unmistakable trace of tedium in his eyes. Despite the simple style of his belted green-suede tunic, he was effortlessly stunning, and I felt plain in comparison in my sapphire-blue gown. I took the arm Steldor was extending, wondering if he counted me as
just another task on his schedule, and glanced back to assess London's reaction. My bodyguard, however, refused to meet my gaze.

The Central Courtyard was one of my favorite haunts, second only to the garden. Lilac hedges lined the wide stone path that led from the palace to the front gates, the point of entry into the grounds, and their profuse blossoms gave off a fragrance that clung to our clothes and hair like mist to the lowlands. Majestic oak trees, white birches and flowering cherry trees cast cooling shadows over the benches situated throughout the grassy expanse, while doors on both of the fifteen-foot-high side walls of the courtyard could be opened to provide access to the equally beautiful East Courtyard and West Courtyard. It was a lovely place to read, think or simply daydream. Neither the increased number of guards on the grounds nor the company I was keeping could dampen the joy I felt at being able to spend this early-June afternoon outside the palace in such a pleasant setting.

I came out of my reverie, trying to listen to Steldor, who was once more rambling on.

“I mean, there was
nothing
attractive about this girl at all. Luckily her father is wealthy so she'll still marry well, but let me tell you we made quite the pair on the dance floor. It was the talk of the party, but not for reasons I would have liked. Don't misunderstand me, I appreciate my father's expectation that I show favor to the daughter of a comrade, and she was certainly in need of the attention, but I—”

“Yes,” I said sweetly, interrupting his monologue. “There are so many who would be pleased to receive a single crumb of your attention.”

He looked bemused for a moment, then continued undeterred.

“Well, yes. Who wouldn't be, given my extraordinary looks, heritage and charm?”

My first reaction was to gawk, but then it occurred to me he might be teasing, and I managed to disguise my reaction with a girlish giggle. Sensing an opportunity to acquire information, I glanced around for Madam Matallia, who had perched herself upon a shaded bench and was conveniently out of earshot.

“Not to mention how strong and brave you are,” I put forth, moving closer to him. “I have no doubt that everyone admires you and, of course, would trust you with important information.”

“Well, I do hear about many things,” he confirmed, putting his arm around my waist, and I hoped I hadn't given him the wrong kind of encouragement.

“Oh, do tell me about something…official.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Tell me something about Cokyri, perhaps about the Cokyrian woman who was our prisoner.”

“You want to know something about Cokyri?” he repeated, and I wondered if he had caught on to what I was doing.

“Yes, I mean, you're so experienced and smart, you must have a theory about how she escaped.”

We stopped walking and Steldor faced me, brows drawn together. I reached out flirtatiously to finger the silver wolf's head talisman that he wore around his neck, and he laughed. “Well, I
am
experienced and smart,” he smirked, placing his hand atop my own and pressing it against his chest. “But
really,
Alera, it would be much simpler just to ask me if you want the details of the investigation.”

I stared at his pendant, my cheeks turning every conceivable shade of pink.

“Then again, I do generally enjoy flattery, and your attempt to trick me into providing you with confidential information has been amusing.” To my mortification, he put his other hand under my chin, raising my deep brown eyes to his own. “But you'll find it difficult to match my wits.”

I jerked my hand away from his, stung by his words, horrified and embarrassed that I had been caught. Spurred by the threat of tears, I turned around, not wanting him to know that he had hurt me. Taking several deep breaths, I walked bleary-eyed toward a stone bench that stood beneath the branches of a white birch tree. When I reached it, I sat down in as dignified a fashion as I could, gazing away from him and wishing that London would return and rescue me. After a moment, Steldor walked over to sit beside me, but I could not bring myself to acknowledge him.

“Now, now,” he said in a patronizing tone, and I felt like a recalcitrant child. “There's no reason to be this upset that your little ploy didn't work.”

When I refused to respond, his voice softened, and he sounded as though he were offering me a treat.

“I know my father and the King would be unwilling to talk about military affairs with you, but I see no harm in satisfying your curiosity. After all, there is no use to which you could put the information.” He began to play with the hair that tumbled down my back. “All you have to do is ask.”

My breath caught in my throat at the humiliating position in which he was placing me, but I swallowed my pride and looked at him, seeing no other way to garner what I wanted to know.

“I would appreciate the details of the investigation into the Cokyrian prisoner's escape.”

“Very well,” he said, far too pleased with himself. He
relaxed in an affected manner, resting his upper arms on the back of the bench and continuing to play with my dark brown tresses.

“We have reached no conclusions at this point, but I do know my father has redirected the investigation toward finding a traitor. The two dungeon guards who came on duty at midnight have confessed that they fell asleep during their shift. Neither man has ever shown neglect in his duties before, leading my father to suspect treachery. He thinks the guards were drugged.

“A meal was brought to the men about three hours after they reported for duty, and they nodded off right after they ate. Both say they woke with the rising of the sun, shortly before Kade came to retrieve the prisoner. That gives us the time frame of the escape.”

“Does your father suspect anyone in particular?” I probed, my embarrassment forgotten.

“No, but the traitor would have to have known the orders that were issued by Kade to the dungeon guards. They vary day to day, and only those on duty at that time and the Elite Guards know the schedule for changing posts. If the traitor knew the orders, he could have drugged the food.”