Legacy (8 page)

“Just answer one question, then. Did you help her escape?”

“This isn't—”

“Did you help her escape?”

“You don't know—”

“It's a simple yes or no question, and I wish you would just answer it. Are you the traitor? Did you assist in her escape?” I stared at him, silently compelling him to respond honestly.

“I am not a traitor,” he declared. The air thrummed with tension for a moment, then he continued, his heart obviously heavy. “If you truly trust someone, then you trust their words and actions, even without explanation. You apparently don't have that level of trust in me.”

I felt for a moment as if I were drowning. The only thing I found harder to endure than London's anger was his disappointment. I looked pleadingly at him, but his expression did not change.

“If there is nothing further you want of me, I will take my leave.”

I grudgingly dismissed him, stepping into the corridor after him. As he and the guard assigned to remove him from the palace strode away, I was gripped by genuine sorrow instead of guilt, regret or denial. I did not know when I would next see him, and it felt like my heart was trying to follow him. With each step he took, it pressed more painfully against my chest, trying to escape. I wanted to run after him and somehow erase the events of the past day, but there was no way to fix what I had done.

THE DAYS THAT FOLLOWED LONDON'S REMOVAL from the palace brought feelings of sorrow and regret, and I wished I could stop wallowing in my grief, his comments about my self-pitying behavior continuing to ring in my ears. I found myself going through the motions of my day—working on embroidery and handwriting, receiving music lessons, visiting the chapel for afternoon prayer, reading in the evening—without any energy or enthusiasm. Cannan had now lifted some of the restrictions imposed upon Miranna and me so that we could again go outside the palace accompanied by our bodyguards, but I had no desire to do so.

London's shoes were impossible to fill, and regardless of how I spent my time, it felt as though something was missing from my life. I longed for someone with whom I could talk, but though Tadark and Destari were constantly around, neither of them made appealing candidates. Destari was probably feeling similarly despondent, for he was a good friend of London's, but he was reserved and stoic, and I did not know him well enough to talk openly with him. And Tadark couldn't resist spewing about how he had never really trusted London, how
there had been something sinister about him, something that just didn't make sense. It was ironic that the person I really wanted to talk to about this was, in fact, London.

About two weeks after London's dismissal, my mother forced me back to life and out among my friends and acquaintances. As Queen, she regularly held social gatherings at the palace for groups of twenty to thirty young Hytanican women of noble birth, and such a function had been planned for the nineteenth of June. The purpose of these gatherings was to continue our etiquette training by testing our social graces. Sometimes the gathering was a picnic, oftentimes it was a tea party and once a year it was a holiday party. Whether my mother and the older women who helped her evaluate our skills knew it or not, it was also always a gossip party.

This particular event was a tea party that coincided with Miranna's sixteenth birthday, which would not be heralded with a palace celebration in the manner of mine, for sixteen was not an age that held special significance in the kingdom. Nevertheless, my mother had decided to take advantage of one of her gatherings to include a small tribute to her younger daughter.

On the appointed afternoon, I strolled into the East Courtyard with my mother and Miranna, accompanied by the Elite Guards who protected the Queen. The East Courtyard had its own distinct attributes, different from both the Central Courtyard and the West Courtyard. While the West Courtyard was relatively unspoiled, with crab apple and cherry trees growing among the wildflowers that spread at will, the East Courtyard was statelier and was often used for public functions. The middle area of the courtyard was paved with multi colored stone that formed concentric circles around a large two-tiered fountain. Oak and elm trees provided shade, and flowers grew
riotously toward the exterior walls. On a day such as today, the air was thick with perfume and the water in the fountain sparkled in the sunlight as it splashed into its basin.

Five small tables, each with a white linen tablecloth and five place settings, stood in close proximity upon the paved stones. The young women who had been invited had already gathered and were twittering among themselves like exotically plumed birds. Four older women were also present, providing one adult to oversee each table and ensure that our manners were impeccable. The lovely Lady Hauna, mother of Steldor's best friend, Galen, was in attendance with her demure seventeen-year-old daughters, Niana and Nadeja; the sensible Lady Edorra had accompanied her vivacious daughter Kalem, also seventeen; the exceedingly proper Lady Kadia had brought easily excited sixteen-year-old Noralee; and bubbly Semari had come with the sedate Baroness Alantonya.

Miranna and I wove our way through the guests with our mother, greeting each in turn. When at last she approached her table to stand behind her chair, all of her guests likewise moved to the tables, observing protocol by remaining on their feet until the Queen had been seated.

The tea service itself was very formal and somewhat orchestrated. Biscuits and sweet cakes were served along with the hot drink. We were expected to sit up straight, arms in at our sides, no leaning over the dishes or elbows on the table. Gentlewomen took small bites and ate slowly, and did not talk or drink with food in their mouths. In addition, only particular subjects were appropriate for a lady's delicate sensibilities, but given the level of scrutiny we were under, we did not speak unless it was necessary.

It was when the formal tea ended that the real conversation began. Released from the tables, and enormously relieved if
we had survived without being chastised, we would walk and talk among ourselves, gossiping freely while the adult women chatted with one another.

I stood with a group of ten acquaintances that included Galen's twin sisters and Steldor's cousin Shaselle, all of whom were dying to discuss the latest developments with me. Today's primary topics were, of course, the discovery of the traitor in the palace and a review of the young men in the kingdom who might make a good husband for me.

“Tell us, Alera,” began Reveina, a bold and serious brunette who tended to be the leader of our circle. “How was the traitor discovered? Rumor has it that
you
were the one who uncovered him and turned him in to the Captain of the Guard.”

I did not know how to respond. It had been information provided by me that had led to London's dismissal, but I, at least, did not regard him as a traitor. This seemed too complicated to explain, however, so I answered more simply.

“I had observed some activities that were relevant to the investigation and, I suppose, played a small part in the decision to dismiss London.”

“He was your bodyguard!” blond-haired Noralee blurted. She generally found everything to be shocking. “Doesn't it give you pause to think of all the times you were alone in his company, not knowing he was a threat to the royal family?”

A strong urge to defend London rose within me, but at the same time, I wanted this conversation to end.

“I never felt unsafe with him,” I said firmly. “And he was never proven to have betrayed the royal family. He was dismissed for dereliction of duty.”

“So do you believe he aided the Cokyrian prisoner in
her escape?” Reveina ignored my explanation for London's dismissal, her eyes shining with a desire for intrigue.

“In truth, I don't know what I believe.”

Just then Miranna and Semari joined our group, drawing attention away from me, and I hoped my ordeal had ended. Such was not to be. The girls extended birthday greetings to my sister, which, unfortunately, reminded several of them of my recent birthday celebration. The discussion then shifted to an examination of the kingdom's eligible young men and their relative qualifications to be King. After a dozen were discussed and discarded, Reveina gave voice to what everyone was thinking.

“We all know there really is only one candidate. We just don't want to give him up to you.”

Amidst a burst of giggles, several eager voices murmured, “Lord Steldor.” There were also several sighs, as most of the girls thought longingly of spending time in his company. But Shaselle chuckled with a roll of her hazel eyes, used to the adoration heaped upon her cousin. She was the daughter of Cannan's younger brother, Baelic, and was known for both her kindness and her occasionally brusque nature. She would not be so easily taken in by Steldor's charm, although doubtless she admired him.

“He is divine,” Reveina gushed, voicing a collective opinion. To my consternation, even Galen's sisters, who were blond like their mother, but with the light brown eyes and carefree smile of their brother, were nodding enthusiastically. “You are so fortunate to have him among your choices…and to have attracted his notice. He could marry anyone he wanted, you know.”

“The way he looks at you,” added Kalem, the most boy-obsessed of the young women, her alabaster skin shining
radiantly. “I hope some day a young man looks at me that way.”

Again, many heads bobbed in agreement. This last statement struck me dumb, for I had always viewed Steldor as coveting the throne rather than coveting me.

Kalem laughed at my expression, tossing her coarse dark hair. “Oh, Alera, you really are naive. He swoons over you the way we swoon over him!”

Although I disliked Steldor intensely, her observation brought a satisfied smile to my face. Perhaps through the embarrassment I had endured in his company recently, I had managed to show him that I was not a mindless toy. At that moment, Lady Edorra, Kalem's mother, approached, interrupting us and drawing several dismayed sighs.

“The Queen is preparing to depart,” she said, glaring knowingly down her narrow nose at us.

Feeling that my life was not in need of further examination, I glanced at Miranna to convey my desire to leave, and she and I departed shortly after our mother. When we passed the guardroom to the right of the Grand Staircase, our bodyguards fell into step with us, and Miranna caught my hand.

“How are you, really? London's absence must be hard to bear.”

“It is hard to bear. He's been with me most of my life, and I feel adrift without him. I guess I relied on him for many things other than protection.”

“I can imagine how terrible you must feel. Halias has always been my bodyguard. Part of my life would be lost if he weren't with me anymore. But I'm sure it will get better with time. And you will see London again, someday.”

Halias had become Miranna's personal bodyguard on the day of her birth. He, London and now Destari shared similar
styles in that they would often keep their distance from their charges to give them privacy. Tadark, on the other hand, hovered constantly; currently, he was hanging off my elbow. Miranna had also been assigned a second bodyguard, but she had been fortunate enough not to get stuck with a Tadark.

“I suppose I will see him again. But I just don't know how to feel right now. His absence leaves a great void that no one else can fill.” Merely saying the words caused me fresh pain.

Tadark, who had a million remarks about London at the ready these days and was always looking for an opportunity to let them spill from his mouth, could no longer restrain himself.

“London left his post, in the middle of the night.
I
would never do such a thing!” he exclaimed, his ego having been dealt an enormous insult. “There was always something about him. I saw it the first time I met him, I did!”

“Tadark,” I said, irritated. “This phrase is probably meaningless to you as it is so oft repeated, but do be quiet.”

“London wasn't half the bodyguard I am!”

I couldn't help wondering if his vociferous assertion was in reality an attempt to convince himself that his statement was true. “
Now,
please,” I said, striving to keep my tone civil.

Tadark stared petulantly at me, then dropped back to fall in step with our other guards. I glanced back in time to catch the glare he received from Destari.

“I don't know how much more of him I can tolerate,” I whispered to Miranna, and her face told me she understood completely.

We approached the spiral staircase at the back of the palace, and I felt an inclination to take a stroll in the garden. Although my sister would have walked with me, I assured her such was
not necessary, preferring to be alone and trusting Destari to control Tadark.

The Palace Guards on duty pulled the doors open for me and I stepped through to amble along the garden's paths, letting my mind become still amid the beautiful foliage: the elm, oak, chestnut and mulberry trees that offered cooling shade; the pear, lime and orange trees that supplied us with unusual fruit; the abundant lilies, violets, tulips and roses that plied the air with fragrance; and the herbs that provided seasoning for cooking as well as treatment for injuries and illnesses. Of course, the grounds were also home to a multitude of birds, and their music in the softly rustling leaves was often the only sound in the gloriously peaceful setting.

By the end of the afternoon, my mood had improved. Although I continued to ache for London's presence more than I had ever longed for anything before, the beauty of the garden had assuaged my disconsolate feelings, and I slept well that night for the first time since the Elite Guard had been removed from the palace.

“ALERA!”

A shrill and exhilarated voice jarred me from sleep, and I sat up, dragging my eyelids open. The drapes on my windows were drawn together, making my bedroom as dark as if the sun had not risen, but my noisy intruder saw fit to remedy that, flinging aside the window coverings so that I had to squint to keep from going blind.

“Miranna? What…?” My body demanded sleep, and my brain refused to work hard enough to form a complete sentence.

“Have you heard the news? You won't believe it!”

Miranna sounded elated, so I assumed that the
news
to which she referred was not something bad.

“This early in the morning, I'd believe just about anything,” I said, sounding raspy from my deep slumber. “What is it?”

“You simply won't believe it!” my sister repeated, bouncing up and down on her toes in excitement, her strawberry-blond curls dancing about her face.

“Yes, we've covered that,” I grumped, sitting up so I could more readily examine her.

“Try to guess. You'll never guess! This is
so
exciting!”

“Mira, can't you just tell me?”

Miranna put on a little pout, disappointed that I was not in a mood to play guessing games, but regardless could not contain her secret.

“Listen to this,” she bubbled, lying down on her stomach atop my bed, propping her elbows so her hands held her chin. “The servants are whispering about it. Our soldiers have captured another Cokyrian within Hytanican walls! Cannan is bringing him in today!”

Miranna had succeeded in arousing my interest.

“Are you positive?”

“After I heard the rumors, I talked to Halias to find out if they were true.” She cleared her throat and dropped her pitch to do a surprisingly accurate imitation of Halias.
“Another one has been arrested within the city, but you didn't learn that from me.”

“Just hope he didn't hear you,” I teased, for all four of our bodyguards were likely standing self-consciously in the parlor while we gossiped.

Miranna waved my comment off with a grin. “So, are you up for a bit of spying?”

“Me? Sneaking around? Never!”

We both laughed, and Miranna went on to explain how she planned to spend the whole day in the Central Courtyard,
inadvertently
being present when the prisoner was brought into the palace. My curiosity was too great not to join her, though we both recognized that Halias, at least, would know exactly what we were doing.

“He'll be fine about it,” Miranna assured me, swinging her legs off the bed to sit up straight. “It's not like a sword fight is going to break out in the middle of the courtyard. Halias
knows there will be no danger. Though he'll probably expect us to hide to save his skin. If Cannan sees we're there, he'll have Halias's head!”

“Destari's, too,” I agreed, knowing Cannan would assign the blame to the older and more experienced of his Elite Guards.

I found myself feeling almost jealous of Miranna's good fortune in a bodyguard, as I had on a few other occasions. Halias had twinkling blue eyes, a broad face, a ready smile and soft ash-blond hair that fell to his shoulders when not pulled back at the nape of his neck. While he was irreproachable when it came to protecting my sister, he made even London look tense. He had always given Miranna a lot of freedom, asserting that his job was to keep her safe and not to raise her. This easygoing attitude made him a much sought-after escort. Like Destari and London, he was a veteran of the Cokyrian War, having served as a Palace Guard, and was credited with uncovering a plot to kill the King.

Tired of my sluggishness, Miranna jumped up and yanked my blankets off me.

“Come on,” she said, tugging at my hand. “I haven't the faintest idea what time Cannan will be bringing the prisoner in. For all we know, we may have already missed it!”

Deciding not to call for my personal maid, I scrambled to my feet and dressed with my sister's help. Skipping breakfast, we rushed from my quarters and into the corridor, followed by Destari, Tadark, Halias and Miranna's secondary bodyguard, a reserved Elite Guard a few years older than Tadark named Orsiett.

As we hurried toward the courtyard, I felt unsettled about our enthusiasm. I knew we should not be this enthralled about finding our worst enemy within our homeland. We were
acting like children, with no appreciation whatsoever for what this incident might mean. But when I remembered the few but intriguing facts I had learned about Cokyri in the previous weeks, and what a stir the capture and escape of our other prisoner had caused, I could not contain my inquisitiveness. The only Cokyrian I had ever seen was Nantilam, the High Priestess, and this new person would be of a completely different status. For one thing, this time our prisoner was, according to Miranna and her informants, a man. London had told me that men were inferior to women in Cokyrian culture, and I wanted to know how the prisoner would act and the manner of his speech; what he would look like and the style of his clothing; if he were a soldier, or servant or even a master.

A warm breeze caressed my cheeks as we stepped into the Central Courtyard, a welcome reminder that summer had arrived. It was late June, and though just yesterday it had been cool and refreshing outdoors, this morning it was sultry, with a promise of blazing hot weather later in the day.

Hytanican summers were notorious for sweltering days, with light rain often falling in the evenings. The weather was predictable in a most uncanny way, which was good for the crops grown by the farmers in the villages surrounding the walled city and ensured that the rolling hills that marked our western border lay draped in green.

We stayed outside for hours, until I felt faint from the heat and ready to abandon our mission, but Miranna wouldn't hear of it.

“The minute you leave, Cannan will come marching up to those gates with the prisoner, and you will miss it.”

She was referring to the exterior gates that permitted entry into the courtyard. The gates were locked to commoners most hours of the day, open only for a short amount of time during
which anyone who had not been banished from the palace grounds or the kingdom itself could seek counsel from the King.

“They're approaching now,” Halias abruptly announced. “If you don't want to be seen, you'd better hide—and not behind that cherry tree.”

He motioned to the thin trunk of a young tree that Miranna was moving toward as though it would conceal her.

My sister changed course, and she and I maladroitly crouched behind the lilac hedges, peering through the irregular gaps in the branches to where the stone path leading from the gates to the steps of the palace lay, dirt-free and so white from the sun's rays that it was almost painful to view. Our bodyguards seemed to vanish, as I supposed they had been trained to do.

Drawn by shouts and the sounds of milling horses, our heads snapped toward the gates and we impatiently waited for them to open. Within a few minutes, they swung inward and Cannan strode between them, looking grim. He turned to wait for his troops to dismount, for no animals were permitted in the courtyard—a single spooked horse could damage its beauty. The mounts would be taken to the Royal Stables, where they would be fed and groomed while their riders attended to business.

My eyes roved over the scene before me until the movement of a particular soldier caught my notice. He was roughly pulling a man whose hands were tied behind his back off one of the horses. This soldier and another then approached Cannan, holding the bound man by his arms between them.

“That's him!” Miranna hissed, gripping my wrist.

I could not see the prisoner's face from where we were hidden, but he was wearing the white shirt and sleeveless brown tunic typically donned by Hytanican villagers, and had
I not known he was Cokyrian, I never would have guessed it. Nothing about him that I could see would have set him apart from all the other villagers frequenting the streets and shops of our kingdom.

I slipped behind Miranna and, continuing to stoop, moved down the line of bushes to the far end in order to get a better glimpse of the man held captive between the large guards. As the gates closed and Cannan turned to lead his troops onward, I gained a more distinct view of the prisoner's face. I stifled a gasp, for he was not a man, but a teenage boy. He held his head high, as though unafraid, but the way his eyes flitted between the guards at his sides and Cannan before him gave away his unease. His hair was thick and many shades of gold, the sun's rays having colored it to their own content, and its darker undertone was a close match to his skin. It was cut about an inch below his ears, and his bangs, which were slightly shorter, fell haphazardly over his forehead.

Miranna, plainly astounded, moved to crouch next to me. “He can't be any older than I am!”

My gaze swept the rest of the soldiers, and all thoughts of the Cokyrian youth left my mind as I caught the light but confident stride, the muscular frame, the twin double-edged blades sheathed at the hips, the untidy silver hair partially obscuring mysterious indigo eyes—London was there, walking at the forefront of a half dozen soldiers as if he were one of them.

“What is he doing here?” I asked aloud, more to myself than to my sister.

“Who?” Miranna queried, too spellbound by the young Cokyrian to notice anything else.

“London,” I responded, pointing.

Miranna's gaze followed the invisible line stretching from
my finger and landed on my former bodyguard, bewilderment to match mine breaking over her face. “What
is
he doing here?” she repeated.

With no available answer, I returned my attention to the captive, and it was then that I noticed his eyes. They were steel-blue, sharp and intense. Despite the youthful glow of his suntanned face, his eyes were cold, suggesting he had great experience in the world and was now expecting the worst.

I stooped lower as the troops passed, watching London stride toward the palace, oblivious to my presence, and an unexpected flood of emotions threatened to overwhelm me—regret, guilt, sorrow, shame and love for the man before me. The urge to run to him once again surfaced, and I had to look away, though Miranna continued to watch, entranced, until the soldiers had passed between the thick palace doors.

“Curious about London?” Destari's deep, resonating voice startled us, and we wheeled around to see the pair of deputy captains crouching behind us.

Booted feet scraped against bark, and I turned my head to see Tadark tumble out of an oak tree, gracelessly landing on his rear end. He let out a wounded groan and was shushed by Orsiett, who was walking toward him.

“Making furry friends up in the tree, were you?” Halias jibed, his blue eyes alight.

“No,” Tadark grumbled. “I wanted to see what was going on.”

“Oh, now I understand.” Halias laughed. “You're a
scenery
guard, not a bodyguard!”

“Halias, we've been mistaken all this time,” Destari added, unable to pass up the fun. “It's not the royal family we're supposed to protect, it's the royal foliage.”

Tadark's cheeks burned and he bitterly muttered, “Leave me alone. You've made your point.”

I watched the three guards in amusement, surprised to see Destari, who was usually quite serious, teasing the lieutenant much as London would have done, and it struck me that Tadark drew jests from people like a flower drew bees.

Destari returned his attention to me, and I suppressed my mirth in order to repeat my question.

“What is London doing here? Isn't he banished from the palace grounds?” I forced out the words, on some level believing they would cease to be true if I refused to say them.

Destari opened his mouth to speak but was interrupted by Tadark's moans as he inched closer to where the four of us sat, pulling himself along the ground in apparent agony.

“Are you trying to make that inchworm feel good about itself?” Halias ridiculed, pointing to a slow-moving specimen that was nonetheless crawling faster than Tadark across the grass.

Tadark made a noise that sounded like
humph,
and continued to scoot along.

“I think I broke something,” he mumbled.

Reaching another tree, he sat up and leaned against its trunk, then plucked a blade of grass, fiddling with it between his fingers. Orsiett stopped and sat down by Tadark, presumably too intimidated by the older guards to join us.

Destari chuckled, noticing as we all were that Tadark was monitoring the greenery rather than his charge, more or less proving Halias's statement to be true.

“You wanted to know about London,” Destari finally said.

I nodded.

“He's here because he is the one who discovered the
Cokyrian in the city. He went to the captain at his home and asked that in exchange for handing over the prisoner, he be allowed an audience with the King.”

I made some noise of affirmation, for everything suddenly made sense to me, but Miranna was confused enough to pursue the subject.

“But how did he find that boy when no one else could, when the search of the kingdom by Cannan's soldiers turned up nothing?”

Halias and Destari glanced at each other, trying to judge how much they should tell us. At last Destari spoke.

“During the war, London saw much of the Cokyrians. I suppose he developed a keener eye for their mannerisms than the average foot soldier.”

Miranna nodded, satisfied with this explanation. Unbeknownst to the guards, however, and thanks to my mother, I was mindful of the real reason London had greater knowledge of Cokyri than did anyone else.

 

Suspicion and apprehension rippled through the palace that afternoon like the swift rapids of the river, but I cared not. I waited outside the doors to the Throne Room, unintelligible voices barely reaching my ears.

Miranna and I had eaten lunch together, then she had left, for the day was getting late and she had other tasks to undertake. After we had parted ways, I entered the antechamber and now paced ceaselessly, too anxious to sit down or stand still. Destari leaned against the wall next to the door to the Grand Entry in London's characteristic posture, while Tadark stood in the middle of the room, shifting his weight from foot to foot. Every time he winced in pain, I remembered with
some sympathy his fall from the tree or, more to the point, his not-so-gentle landing.