Return of the Warrior (23 page)

“Father?” Romany said, gaining the man’s attention.

He was large and bald, with bulging eyes that reflected cruelty. “I told you not to disturb me, girl. Go tend to your whores.” He tossed a cup at her, which Phantom deftly caught and launched back at him.

The man sputtered as the wine soaked him. Enraged, he shot to his feet at the same time Phantom pulled a dagger out and angled his head in warning. Once more, Phantom lowered his cowl so that all the men there would know him.

“Velizarii.” The man breathed the name with reverence and fear. “I was told you were dead.”

“That seems to be the consensus, Azral. But as you can see, I am alive and well and thoroughly enraged by my current situation.” Phantom en
tered the room as if he owned it. He surveyed the men who were there.

“Leave,” he snapped at the men who’d been playing dice.

As they got up to obey, he buried his dagger into the sleeve of one of the noblemen. “Not you.”

Christian and the others stepped back to give the men room to leave. They didn’t speak, but allowed Phantom to take the lead. This was his domain and he knew the rules here.

Phantom waited until they were alone.

Christian and the rest of their guard entered the room and shut the door, then locked it.

The thin, well-dressed nobleman began to sweat. “I didn’t know they were going to kill you, Velizarii. I swear I didn’t. Had I known they were raiding your dormitory that night, I would have warned you.”

Phantom looked less than convinced by his words. “Silence, Petr. I’ve no desire to hear of your innocence, especially not while I can see for myself just how far your family has risen through your father’s treachery. How many of the guard were slain that night? I know my dormitory wasn’t the only one that they attacked.”

The man gulped audibly. “All of them died.”

Pain went through Phantom’s eyes before he masked it. “Your father? What position does he hold?”

“Minor vizier to Selwyn.”

Azral watched the two of them as if Petr’s fear
and Phantom’s intimidation entertained him greatly. “Should we take his head and send it to his father?”

Phantom didn’t respond to his question, but rather asked one of his own. “Is the Circle still intact?”

Azral shrugged. “I was never a part of them. Even after you were captured, they refused to follow me.”

“Are they still intact?”

“Aye. Darian leads them now.”

“Summon them.”

Azral started for the door, but paused as Phantom added, “Betray me to Selwyn, Azral, and my wrath will be such that I will gut you like a squealing pig and roast your entrails in your own fire.”

Azral’s face lost color. “I would never be so foolish.”

“Good.”

Once they were alone, Phantom turned back to Petr. “Has anything changed in the palace since I’ve been away?”

Petr shook his head.

“What is this Circle?” Christian asked.

Phantom let out a long, slow breath. “They were my family. After Selwyn left me for dead, their leader took me in and trained me to work with them. They are assassins and thieves for hire.”

“Phantom used to be their leader,” Lutian said. “It was well known by all that no one could touch the Circle so long as he led it.”

“And this Darian?”

“He was just a boy when I left. His mother died at his birth, his father from illness.”

Christian felt for Phantom’s past. “Do you trust them?”

“Aye. You guarantee them amnesty and they will be an even more potent army than Ioan’s.”

“They are few,” Lutian said.

Phantom gave him a dry stare. “And the greatest fires are set by the smallest sparks. Darian and his men will gladly rid us of those loyal to Selwyn. Mark my words, Selwyn has sat his last upon our grandfather’s throne.”

Petr’s face blanched as he looked up at Christian. “You are the uncrowned king?”

Christian lowered his cowl. “Aye.”

Before anyone knew what he was doing, Petr grabbed the dagger from the table and tossed it with deadly precision at Christian.

“The imposter’s dead.”

Adara froze as she heard the unfamiliar male voice through her prison’s door.

“Are you sure?” her guard asked.

“Aye. Lord Selwyn identified him himself. He was stabbed straight through his heart.”

Adara felt her world shift at those words. Christian dead? Nay. It couldn’t be.

The men outside laughed and began to celebrate.

“Christian,” she breathed, her heart shattering in waves of bitter agony. He couldn’t be gone. He couldn’t.

“Open the door. Lord Selwyn wishes to have the queen join him so that they can set a date for her new wedding.”

Never!

Adara struggled to breathe as she glanced about
for a weapon. There was nothing. But when the door opened, her rage took hold of her.

“Damn you!” she shouted, then commenced to throwing every object toward the soldiers who entered.

She couldn’t see clearly through her tears. All she knew was that she wanted vengeance on all of them. How dare they kill her Christian!

How dare they!

Sobs assailed her. She wanted to crumple from the excruciating weight of her grief. But she refused. So instead, she vented by pelting them with everything she could lift and launch.

“Adara, cease!”

She froze at the sound of a voice she hadn’t expected to hear. For a moment she thought she might be dreaming, until she blinked to look up into the most handsome face she’d ever known. She stared at the same blue eyes that made the tenderest of love to her.

Christian.

Her grip went lax and the candlestick in her hand fell to the floor. He was alive!

She threw herself into his arms and held him close as giddy tears replaced her grief-induced ones. At least until her rage took hold again. “Damn you, you worthless, heartless son of a dog!” she snarled, pulling back to strike at his chest. “How dare you make me think you were dead! Don’t you ever do such a thing to me again.”

Christian was stunned by her language and actions. “I didn’t know you could hear us through the door.”

She struck him again on his armor, a blow that no doubt he felt not at all, but it gave her some degree of satisfaction. “Well, think better next time.”

Her untoward anger amused him. Wiping the tears from her face, he kissed her tenderly.

Phantom cleared his throat. “Need I remind the two of you that we still need to get out of this place before the guards regain consciousness?”

“We are coming,” Christian said, pulling back from her and taking her hand into his.

Two men brought the guards into her room and dumped them by her bed before they tied them securely.

“How did you know where to find me?” she asked them.

“Phantom has many unsavory friends who know every machination of Selwyn’s.”

For some reason she didn’t doubt that.

Looking uncertain, Lutian came forward. Royal protocol aside, Adara hugged him close in relief of seeing him whole and hearty. “Thank the Lord that you are unharmed. I was terrified of what they’d done to you.”

“Methinks they unaddled my noggin, my queen. For the first time in years, I seem to be thinking right again.”

She smiled at him, then placed a chaste kiss to
his cheek. “We both know there was never anything really wrong with your noggin, Lutian,” she whispered in his ear.

“Aye, but ’tis more fun to pretend that there is.”

She laughed at that before Christian placed her hand into the crook of his arm and led her from her prison. They moved quickly through the palace’s corridors. She was actually amazed at how well Phantom remembered a place he hadn’t been in since his childhood.

“Just a little farther,” Phantom said as they entered the civil chambers.

They were halfway across the waiting antechamber when Christian drew to a sudden stop.

Adara paused to frown at him. “Christian?”

He didn’t seem to hear her as he stared up at the wall with a scowl on his handsome face.

She turned to see what held his interest, then swallowed. It was a painting of his family. His grandfather sat on his throne in full royal regalia with his grandmother on the throne beside him. Christian’s mother sat at their feet with two of her brothers on each side of her.

The likenesses were poor, but enough that even Christian must realize who they were.

He looked around the antechamber then as if seeing it with new eyes. “What is this room?” he asked Phantom.

“The waiting antechamber for the throne room.”

“And the throne room? Where is it?”

Phantom indicated a pair of doors to his left with a jerk of his chin. “Through yon doors.”

Without another word, Christian headed toward them.

“Christian?” she asked, following after him.

What was he doing?

He opened the door to the gilded room, which was completely empty. Adara hadn’t been inside it since she was a small girl. The room was large and open, and trimmed in green. At the far end was a golden dais that held a pair of ornately crafted thrones. Behind them was the royal banner that bore the symbol of the three dragons of Elgedera.

Since time immemorial, Christian’s family had reigned here. Like her own family, his had never been overthrown. Not until Selwyn.

Christian turned to look at her. “Come, my lady,” he said, holding his arm out to her.

“Come where?”

“Take my arm, Adara.”

Uncertain, she did. He led her toward the thrones, then placed her on the queen’s.

Confused, she watched as Lutian, Phantom, and the other seven men came forward, into the room. Without a word, Christian removed his peasant garb to reveal his royal surcoat. He picked up the royal scepter that was lying on a pillar between the thrones, then took a seat on his own throne.

“What is it you do?” Phantom asked.

He looked at Phantom, his eyes haunted. “Our fathers died for this. You and I have risked everything to return here. I say we send for Selwyn and let him know that the true king has returned and that his days of usurpation are over.”

Phantom laughed darkly. “Only a fool would do such a thing.”

“Nay,” Lutian said from his right. “Not even a fool would be so foolish. ’Tis suicide.”

Phantom took a long, deep breath, then expelled it slowly before he crossed the room to stand before Christian. “My father died here in this room.” His gaze turned stormy as he looked to the corner where it must have happened. “What more fitting place for me to be when I, too, am sent to hell? I am with you, brother, until the very end.”

Adara started to rise.

“Stay, my queen,” Christian said. “This is your throne and it is the throne that will one day belong to our child.”

Now
he wanted his throne? She could strangle him for his timing. “They will kill us, Christian.”

He took her hand into his and held it. “We shall see.”

Selwyn was preparing himself for bed when a knock on his door disturbed him.

“What can it be at this hour?” he snapped at his valet. “Open the damned door and send them away.”

But as the door opened to show him his grand
marshal, a bad feeling went through him. The man looked scared and unsure.

“What is it?” he asked.

The marshal swallowed audibly. “There is…The king demands your presence.”

Selwyn frowned at his nonsensical words. “King? What king?”

“The one who sits on the throne and claims to be Prince Christian, grandson of King Alonzo the Great.”

Selwyn’s stomach sank at his words. Nay, it couldn’t be. There was no way Christian could be here. His spies had seen him heading for the abbey, not toward the city.

“Ready my guard,” he snarled as he pulled on his red surcoat. “Send for my son.”

The marshal hesitated. “Only the true king can command me, Lord Selwyn. You know our laws.”

“He is an imposter!”

“Perhaps, but he does favor his grandfather, whom I served for many years. He has his bearing and form…and bears the royal coat of arms. I believe him to be who he claims, and as such, I am his servant.”

Selwyn hissed at the man. He grabbed his sword, then went to rouse his guards himself.

“Was the hall always this melancholy?” Christian asked Phantom. “I think we should add more windows.”

Adara sat there in shock as the two of them con
tinued to speak of inconsequential matters while the grand marshal had gone to fetch Selwyn, who would most likely muster an army.

She still couldn’t believe Christian’s audacity. When the marshal had come in, she had expected total anarchy, but the man had looked at Christian and seen the family resemblance.

Even so, she had expected him to balk. He hadn’t. But one old man’s loyalty wouldn’t win this throne.

They heard the sound of many footsteps outside.

Adara crossed herself and prayed as the doors to the throne room were slung open to show her Selwyn and a large group of guards.

Christian and Phantom continued to chat about redecorating the throne room.

“I think we should remove that set of swords,” Christian said, indicating a display over the hearth. “Rather morbid, I think.”

“Aye,” Phantom concurred. “My father never cared for it, either.”

“Hmm,” Christian said. With a regal wave of his hand that was completely out of character for him, he motioned to the grand marshal. “Can you read and write, Marshal?”

“Aye, Majesty.”

“Good, then. Fetch a ledger and make notes.”

“What is this?” Selwyn demanded as he stormed into the room.

“Silence!” Christian roared in an imperious tone that left Adara wide-eyed. “No one has ad
dressed you, servant. My new vizier and I are discussing grave matters.”

Christian rose from his throne and stepped down toward the wall opposite the hearth. “This entire room needs to be redone. My queen doesn’t care for green.” He looked to her. “What color pleases you most, my love?”

She exchanged a nervous look with Lutian while Selwyn sputtered in indignation. “Blue.”

“Then let us redo this room in blue.
Royal
blue.”

“Seize him!” Selwyn snarled.

The guards looked to the marshal, who appeared sheepish.

Christian gave an exaggerated sigh. “You forget, servant, that the guard serves the king. You are—or should I say
were
—the regent ruling only until the king returned.” He smiled evilly. “Well, the king has come home. You are relieved of all your duties.”

“He’s not the king,” Selwyn snapped. “Prince Christian is dead.”

Without a single comment, Christian walked to the wall where Selwyn’s painting rested. He looked at it coldly, then knocked it from the wall. It landed with an echoing clatter. “Marshal, I want this burned.”

Selwyn started for Christian, only to stop the instant an arrow embedded itself beside him. He froze.

“I came with my own guard,” Christian said coldly.

Selwyn looked to the balcony overhead, where three of the archers were visible. The others were hiding with arrows at ready, and while they had been waiting there for his appearance, their number had grown to twenty from the thieves who had joined their ranks.

Christian turned to face the guards. “Take him.”

As they moved to obey Christian, Adara heard a loud cry from the antechamber. “Attack!”

She came to her feet as complete chaos erupted in the doorway of the antechamber. A large group of men came in, with Basilli leading them.

“Protect the queen,” Christian snarled, unsheathing his sword to join the fray.

Lutian rushed to pull her to safety. The two knights who had come with Christian pushed her into a corner so that they could form a barrier between her and the fighting.

Adara pressed her hand to her lips as she watched the fighting from over the knights’ shoulders.

Christian didn’t expect his people to fight with him, but to his surprise the guards Selwyn had brought immediately turned on the newcomers who were being led by a man not much older than Christian.

“Basilli!” Selwyn snapped. “They must be killed.”

“Must we?” Phantom asked with a laugh.

Selwyn ran for him. Phantom jerked and moved so fast that it wasn’t until the dagger embedded it
self into Selwyn’s heart that Christian realized Phantom had thrown it.

“That’s for my father, you bastard,” Phantom snarled as Selwyn fell to the floor on his knees and pulled the dagger free. By his actions it was obvious he intended to use it against Phantom.

Phantom gave him no quarter. His eyes blazing hell’s wrath, he unsheathed his sword and drove it deep into Selwyn’s body. “And that is for my grandfather, who trusted you.”

Basilli cried out as he saw his father fall. Enraged, he lunged for Christian, who fought him back. Basilli’s men retreated as they realized Selwyn was dead.

Christian’s guards moved forward.

“Nay,” Christian growled. “This matter ends here and now. There will be no one left to threaten my child or my queen.”

Basilli sneered at that. “I will see both your whore and your whoreson skewered beside you.”

Christian parried his attack and countered it. He would give the man credit, Basilli was an accomplished swordsman.

But not accomplished enough. Christian caught his next stroke and disarmed him. “Take him,” he said to his guards.

Before they could, Basilli rushed forward, dagger drawn. He caught Christian off guard as he unbalanced him and sent them both to the floor. The impact knocked the sword from Christian’s hand.

Christian grabbed the man and punched him hard before he grabbed Basilli’s hand that held the dagger.

The guards moved forward again.

“Nay,” Phantom snapped. “Your king can handle himself.”

Christian lifted his leg and kicked Basilli in the back, lurching him forward. Basilli hissed loudly, his eyes flaring an instant before they widened.

It was then Christian realized that Basilli’s wrist had been turned during his lurch. The dagger in his hand was now embedded in his chest.

Basilli panted in pain as he let loose his hold. Christian pulled the dagger free as the man slid from him to fall back against the floor. Rising to his feet, Christian felt for the man and for the greed that had led father and son to such a fate.