On Azrael's Wings (23 page)

Several moments later, a gentle tapping at her door brought her from her mental wanderings. “Yes, what is it?”

“You have a visitor, Lord.”

Azrael frowned as she heard Suma’s voice. She wondered why he was the one to escort this guest. “Enter.”

The captain eased open the door, his stern face graver than ever. Behind him, Azrael saw another, slighter figure.

“Who is it, Suma?”

Suma stood aside and let the person pass.

The figure was somewhat familiar. When her identity registered with Azrael, the general rose. “My Queen!”

“Hardly, child,” Queen Mother Gerina scowled, her voice sounding wet and rough. “You’ve never been one for social niceties. Don’t start now.”

Confused, Azrael indicated Suma should leave. As the door closed, she noted the old woman slightly weaving and she hastened to bring a chair. Pouring a cup of wine for her aunt, Azrael refreshed her own and sank into her seat.

A closer look at Gerina only served to verify what she’d seen the night before; the woman had aged considerably. Azrael found it surprising since the queen was of an age with her uncle and he was still quite vital. No longer the tall and stern mother of the prince royale, she seemed to have shrunk in on herself and was now only half her original size. Her breathing was raspy, a rattle in her chest audible with every exhale. Gerina wore fine silks of blue and gray, a scarf draped over her iron gray hair and a satchel hanging from a frail shoulder.

Azrael’s study was halted when she noted the fiery blue eyes.

“O, how the mighty have fallen, yes?” Gerina asked, eyebrow raised. Before Azrael could respond, she scoffed and waved her to silence. “No need to be sensitive to my feelings. I don’t have them anymore.”

Azrael opened her mouth, closed it, and finally spoke. “Why are you here, Your Majesty? Did the King send you to escort my body slave?”

Gerina snorted. “Hardly. I warned him to keep away from you but he rarely listens to my counsel these days.”

“Then why are you here?”

The wrinkled face creased into a smile. “Always the blunt one, weren’t you?” she asked rhetorically. “I was quite happy that you were never one for court. I don’t think I could have stood the scrapping between you and Shonal for long.”

Regaining her equilibrium, Azrael pursed her lips. “What’s done is done,” she said. “What brings you to my home now?”

Their eyes locked, blue and black, as the two women battled with their wills. Eventually, though she didn’t release their gaze, Gerina nodded in slow and grudging respect.

“Your father raised you well,” she said. “He succeeded far better than I. I’ll have to commend him when I reach the other side.”

Azrael’s eyes narrowed. “You haven’t answered my question.”

“Forgive me,” Gerina said, her tone at odds with her words. “I’m used to a more civil tongue.” She heaved a sigh which resulted in a spasm of coughing. Dry and shrill, it almost bent her double.

Unsure what to do, Azrael leaned forward and awkwardly patted the old woman’s back until her hand was batted away.

Gerina gained control and took a large swallow of wine before sagging in her chair, face red, panting. Soon, the flush eased from her skin and she opened her eyes once more. They no longer radiated fire but a dull regret.

“You ask why I’m here,” she said. “Why would I come to the house of my son’s cousin, a woman who is strong and just, feared and loved by the people?”

Rather than argue the description, Azrael nodded.

“I’m here because I need you to do something for me.” Gerina leaned forward. “I’ve spent my life devoted to my only son, seeing to his safety, ensuring he had the best education to lead his people, to be a great king. His father -” Gerina snorted again and looked out the window. “His father had other ideas. A good king, not great. But I knew Shonal had the ability to be the grandest ruler in the history of Barentcia!”

Azrael listened, unimpressed. She could recall with ease how much the woman had doted on and spoiled her child.

“But something went wrong,” Gerina said, shoulders drooping. “He doesn’t aspire to greatness. He’s too busy playing with the members of his court to be bothered with his people.” Shaking her head, she returned her gaze to Azrael. “Shonal enjoys power; he always has. Perhaps too much. I have proof that he … he …”

Silence for long moments. Azrael finally begged the question. “Proof of what?”

Blue eyes sparkled with tears, reflecting an emotion Azrael had never seen there. Fear.

“Shonal is kin-and king-slayer.”

The news shocked the dark woman to her core. She sat back with an explosive curse. “You can’t be serious!”

Gerina’s tears began to fall in earnest. “I can. I’ve a witness I’ve hidden in the north and a sworn deposition.” The old woman fumbled for a kerchief from her satchel. “My son killed his father for the crown,” she whispered.

Unable to sit still, Azrael rose and began pacing the room. “Why didn’t you tell Neito?” she finally demanded.

“Tell Neito?” Gerina echoed, looking up from her misery. “If Shonal even suspects I know, he’ll kill me as well! His father was a strong man and I … I am nothing but an old woman. Besides, Neito and his son have been away from court for years. I had no opportunity to tell them.”

Azrael paused and glared at her aunt. “But you’ll tell me. What is this thing you want me to do?” She was surprised when Gerina, ever the proud and strong woman, shrank away from her gaze.

The Queen Mother pulled a parchment case from her satchel. “I have the deposition here. If you could get it to Neito, find the witness. Perhaps you can go to the council -“

“The council?” Azrael growled. “They’re as terrified of my dear cousin as you are.” Resuming her pacing, the dark woman prayed to the gods that she would wake in her villa with Ursula at her side. When that didn’t occur, she stopped to stare out the window rather than browbeat the old woman. “Why do you think I’ll do anything anyway?” she asked. “I’m in enough hot water as it is with Shonal.”

“Because I’ve instilled Shonal with a hatred for you,” Gerina said. “He’ll stop at nothing to destroy you now that he is in control.”

Azrael sighed and sagged against the window casement. “Why?” she asked, voice soft. “I was never a threat to your precious son’s destiny. I never wanted to rule and am too far away in lineage to legally do so.”

“Because you were everything I wanted him to be,” Gerina finally said. “Strong, forthright, proud. Give you a horse or weapon and you’d learn it instantly. The other children at court always followed you. You were born a leader.” She trailed off. “You had their love and didn’t even know it. It was all so casual for you. Shonal had to work at weapon craft, broke bones learning to ride. The children constantly picked at him.” Another pause. “I hated you for that.”

A banging on the door interrupted further discussion. Azrael whirled about and strode toward it, yanking it open.

“Lord Azrael!”

“Milady!”

The corridor held several servants, the steward and Suma. One of the servants was disheveled, blood flowing freely from a cut on his scalp.

A chill soaked through Azrael’s blood as she recognized the wounded man.

“Milady!” he said, voice slurred. “They came upon us at the gate! They took her and killed Joram! They left me for dead, as well!”

“Who are they?” Azrael heard her voice ask, though She didn’t need an answer. She already knew.

“The King’s personal guard, Milady!”

Chapter Twenty-One

“This is madness, Lord,” Suma exclaimed, his normal professional demeanor long fled in the wake of Azrael’s response. The other servants had been dismissed, leaving only the two of them and the Queen Mother. “He’ll never allow you near! You must know that!”

Azrael finished belting on her sword. Pausing a moment, lips tight, she turned to the captain of her guard. “You’re correct. He’ll be looking for me to come after him.”

Suma watched her closely, not daring to be relieved quite yet.

Looking at Gerina, Azrael felt a dark burble of humor. The old woman was watching her closely, much as one would a particularly volatile reptile, the scrollcase still clutched in her hand.

A slow smile bared Azrael’s teeth. She plucked the case free from its owner and handed it to Suma. “You,” she ordered, “will find the fastest horse in the city and get this to Neito. Take all the men - it must get to my uncle, no matter the cost.”

Sputtering a moment, Suma took the scrollcase. “What of you, Lord? Who will guard you?”

Azrael ignored him, turning to the old woman. “You,” she continued, “will get me into the palace under the guise of your guard.” Her tone brooked no argument.

Gerina opened her mouth and snapped it shut. The doting mother fought with the still grieving widow for dominance. After long moments, she nodded once in sharp agreement, aged eyes reflecting a hint of the steel they’d always held.

Pleased, Azrael turned to Suma. “Go!” she ordered, almost pushing him to the door. “This is evidence of a murder committed by the King! Let no one stand in your way!”

Duty warred with duty. “You’d best take care of yourself,” Suma growled, all semblance of the soldier replaced by the long time friend and companion. “I haven’t saved your life in many a fight to have you die now.”

“I’ll not be the one dying,” Azrael said, taking the man’s arm. “Now get going. Let no one stop you.”

“Aye, Lord,” the blond said, captain once more. “I’ll see you soon.” He left the room, not waiting for an answer.

Azrael listened to his footsteps until he was out of range. Turning back to Gerina, she surprised a smirk.

“You realize you will be dead by the end of the day?” the Queen Mother asked. “And I, as well. Either that or we’ll be side by side in the dungeons awaiting execution on charges of treason.”

Shrugging, Azrael retrieved her wrist daggers. “No matter.” She busied herself with the bracers and, once all was ready, looked at her aunt. “Call your captain. Let’s get this over with.”

Azrael rode beside the Queen Mother’s palanquin, dressed head to toe in the blue livery of the Queen’s Guard. Though the Guard was loyal to Gerina alone, tempting fate was not an option. Only the captain knew of the subterfuge being conducted. A guard of similar statue was now tied and unconscious in a storage room of Azrael’s manse, wearing nothing but smallclothes and guarded by the steward. There had been no challenge from the other Guardsmen. Azrael kept aloof from them to avoid detection, remaining at the Queen Mother’s side.

The palace gates loomed large before them and a challenge was called. Halting, the troop waited, vigilantly protecting their liege as the captain urged his mount forward to respond.

Guts tightening, Azrael watched the man with care, seeking any sign of duplicity. All seemed well, however, when the soldiers were ordered into the outer bailey.

Another agonizing moment of panic, Azrael gritted her teeth as she heard Shonal’s guard overhead. A slight snarl bared her teeth, hidden beneath the helmet.

The second gate came into view, another challenge called. Here Azrael could see that Shonal’s guard had been doubled. It was good to know the depths of her cousin’s caution. Through the gate, she noted quite a bit more traffic, even more than the night before with a palace full of revelers. As the troop was waved through, she saw a platoon camped in the main courtyard and archers in the palace windows where none had been before.

Pulling to a stop, the captain ordered the troops to dismount. Azrael was already beside the Queen’s palanquin, offering her arm to the old woman.

Whether real or feigned, Gerina stumbled, grasping the proffered arm tightly. She waved off the captain with a growl. “Alois will help me to my quarters,” she said, her voice rasping.

“Yes, my Queen,” the captain said, lips pressed tightly together. He bowed to Gerina and had the way cleared to the palace doors.

As they entered the palace, Azrael fought the urge to dash off in search of Ursula. It was only mid afternoon, chances were that the brunette was still safe. Shonal was no doubt waiting for his cousin’s arrival.

The number of guards seemed to have driven off many of the courtiers who would normally be hanging about. The few Azrael did see barely had time to pay their respects to the Queen Mother before scurrying off to less restrictive climes.

Gerins’s claw-like hand guided them through the atrium and into a corridor. Every few feet guards were posted, coming to attention as they passed. Azrael knew the way intimately though it had been a few years since her last visit. When her father was alive her family had a suite in the royal wings. Now, however, her ancestral home was not a welcome one.

In deference to security, there were doors instead of curtains. Two Queen’s Guards flanked one, their livery contrasting with the silver and black of Shonal’s men up and down the hall. Both bowed to the queen, one immediately opening the door behind him.

Azrael began to step inside but her aunt paused. Eyes narrowing behind the helm, she wondered if the old woman would raise the alarm. Frankly, she’d been surprised at Gerina’s cooperation. She should have know the queen’s complacency wouldn’t last long in light of her dear son’s peril.

“How are things here, Stefan?” Gerina asked the guard holding the door.

“Well enough, Your Majesty,” Stefan said. “As you can see, the King’s Guard are on alert. We’ve been told to keep an eye open for security breaches. Seems he’s worried his cousin will break her fealty oath.”

Face heating, Azrael stifled a growl, glad of the helm covering her countenance. That she was intending to do just that was almost anathema to her nature. Still, there was only one choice to be had - Shonal would never have Ursula, no matter how much honor and blood Azrael would lose.

Gerina scoffed at the guard. “Azrael break an oath? Hardly. Why would Shonal think that?”

The guard shifted his weight, eyes glancing about as his face flushed. A moment’s thought and he decided in favor of speaking despite his obvious discomfort. After a glance at his companion, Stefan leaned forward and lowered his voice. “It is said that the King has baited his cousin with a woman.”