“He’s done nothing,” whispered Akeela.
“My lord—”
“Nothing!” Akeela’s voice tore through the hillside. “That motherless liar! He’s betrayed me!”
“Akeela, stop,” said Breck sharply. The order, overly familiar, shocked Akeela. “Just take it easy. I’m sure there’s an explanation.”
“Oh, I’m sure you’re right,” seethed Akeela. “I’m sure Baron Glass has his reasons. That bloated toad never wanted my library built. And now he’s defied me! Well, he won’t get away with this . . .” Angrily he spun his horse around, heading back toward the road. “That lying whoreson will pay for disobeying me!”
Blind with rage, he spurred his mount forward, sending up clods of earth. Behind him, Breck shouted for him to stop. But Akeela’s mind was wrapped like a bear trap around a single goal—destroying Baron Glass.
When Akeela reached Lionkeep, he found Graig in the courtyard, waiting for him. The warden’s grin disappeared when he saw Akeela’s twisted face. Akeela galloped into the courtyard. He tossed himself from the back of his lathered horse and thundered toward Graig.
“Where’s Glass?” he demanded.
“My lord?” Warden Graig studied Akeela with alarm. “Are you all right?”
“Damn it, can’t anyone give me a straight answer any more? Where is he, Graig?”
“My lord, stop,” ordered Breck. He rode into the courtyard after his king. “Just wait, damn it, please!”
Graig was stupefied. “What’s this all about? Akeela, what’s wrong?”
Akeela could barely find his breath. He managed, “I want to know where that pustule Glass is hiding.”
Breck dropped down from his horse. “My lord . . .”
“Shut up!” roared Akeela. “Graig, answer me. Where is Glass?”
“In your council chamber, my lord, meeting with Chancellor Hogon. The chancellor just arrived a short while ago.”
“Then come with me,” snapped Akeela, pushing past the warden. He didn’t ask Breck to come, but the lieutenant did so anyway, following him through the doors of Lionkeep. Soldiers and servants greeted Akeela, smiling and welcoming him home. Akeela gave them each perfunctory waves. Graig and Breck walked briskly behind him, trying to keep up. Breck urged him to calm down. Akeela ignored him completely.
At the end of the hall lay the council chamber. The doors were closed. Akeela didn’t bother to knock. He quickly grabbed the handle and swung open the door. It crashed against the wall, bringing Glass sputtering to his feet. The baron leapt from his chair, spilling the wine in his one good hand. Hogon turned toward the threshold, aghast.
“King Akeela,” said Glass. He put down his goblet and brushed at his stained tunic. “By the Fate, you startled me!”
“How dare you?” hissed Akeela. He stalked into the chamber, staring at Glass. “How dare you!”
Glass stepped back. “My lord?”
Akeela’s hand shot out and slapped the baron across the face. The blow stunned Glass, sending him backward. He looked at Akeela in shock, then his face contorted in rage.
“You little . . . !”
Hogon grabbed his arm to keep him back.
“You lied to me,” spat Akeela.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’ve just been to the library, Baron. There’s been no work done since I left. You’ve done nothing!”
Glass gasped in astonishment. “Is that all? You struck me over
that?”
“You promised that you’d help construct the library. You betrayed me!”
“I did nothing of the kind,” said Glass, shaking off Hogon’s grasp. “I halted construction of your library for a reason!”
“Lies!” cried Akeela.
“My lord, please,” said Breck. “Let him talk.”
Akeela whirled on him. “You would listen to this snake charmer? Of course. Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
“Just listen,” pleaded Breck. “Let Glass explain.”
“All right,” said Akeela. “Fine.” He folded his arms. “Go on, Baron. Explain. This should be good.”
“King Akeela, I didn’t betray you,” said Glass. He put his hand to his chin and massaged the reddened flesh. “It’s true—I ordered work on the library stopped. But I had to. It’s like I was trying to tell you before you left for Norvor—there are no funds for it.”
Akeela scoffed. “A lie.”
“It isn’t a lie! I’ve spoken with Chancellor Sark. The treasury doesn’t have the money. All of it’s gone to pay for the battle with Norvor.”
Akeela sneered, “Don’t cloud the issue, Baron. You know how much that library means to me, yet you chose to disobey me.”
“Yes,” admitted Glass, “or risk seeing Liiria ruined by debt. That’s the choice you left me with, Akeela! I did what I had to do.”
“Indeed. You’ve made your choice, Baron. Now you’ll have to pay for it.” Akeela turned to Warden Graig. “Arrest him.”
Graig’s mouth dropped open. “My lord?”
“You heard me, Graig. Baron Glass is a traitor. Let’s see how long he lasts in Borior prison.”
“My lord, no!” cried Breck.
“King Akeela, this is madness!” said Hogon. He stepped between Glass and his king. “I won’t allow it!”
Akeela glared at him. “You won’t . . . ? Listen to me, old man—you serve
me.
You follow my orders.” He looked at all of them, at all their shocked faces. “Do you hear me? I’m the king!”
Breck hurried out a hand. “My lord, enough, now . . .”
Akeela swatted him away. “No! I’m done listening. That’s all I’ve been doing for months, listening to all of you tell me what to do, thinking you can run Liiria better than me and talking behind my back. Norvor threatens and I do nothing. Glass plots against me, and I do nothing. Well not this time.” He put a threatening finger in Glass’ face. “This time you’re going to pay, Baron. You won’t stand against me any more.”
“My God, he’s mad,” whispered Hogon. He stared at Akeela in disbelief. Akeela realized they were all staring.
“Graig, get that ridiculous expression off your face. Arrest Baron Glass. That’s an order.”
“Akeela, don’t make me do this. . . .”
“Don’t disobey me,” warned Akeela. “I’m warning you, I won’t tolerate this lawlessness any more.”
“Great Fate, King Akeela, think for a moment,” said Glass. “I’m not your enemy!”
Akeela ignored him. He kept a steely gaze on Graig. “Do it, Graig.”
“Akeela . . .”
“Do it!”
Graig looked around blankly. Chancellor Hogon grimaced uselessly. Breck had turned the color of milk. Finally, the Head Warden relented.
“I’m sorry, Baron,” said Graig. “I have no choice.”
Baron Glass nodded. “Very well.” He looked at Akeela. “Akeela the Good? Is that what they call you?”
“The people call me that,” said Akeela proudly. “Not fat noblemen like you.”
“You’re going to ruin us,” said Glass. Graig took his arm and began leading him to the door, but Glass wouldn’t leave until he had his say. “There’s no money for your library, you fool.”
“Oh, but there is, Baron,” said Akeela. “You’re going to pay for it. You and the rest of your cohorts in the House of Dukes.”
“What?”
“Enjoy your stay in Borior, Baron.”
“Don’t you dare touch my property!”
Graig hurried Glass out of the chamber. The Baron’s threats rung down the hall. When he was gone, Akeela closed his eyes and took a steadying breath. His head was pounding. If he didn’t rest soon, he knew he would collapse. When he opened his eyes again he saw Breck and Hogon staring at him.
“I had to do it,” he said. “He was a traitor. He betrayed his word to me.”
“He’s a good man,” said Hogon. “And you. . . .” The chancellor shook his head. “You’re not well, my lord.”
“Chancellor, I am as fit today as the day I was born. It is the queen who isn’t well.” Akeela went to the door. “So if you’ll excuse me, I must see my wife now.”
Alone in her enormous bed, Cassandra listened to the voices outside her chamber. It was like awakening from a dream. The narcotics Physician Oric had prescribed had done a remarkable job of curbing her pain, but they had the terrible effect of leaving her like a drunken fool. For more than a week now she had been unable to leave her bed or take solid food. Her cancerous growth had progressed rapidly in Akeela’s absence. She had dropped weight and was now featherlight, and her hair had lost its sheen, falling around her shoulders in lusterless strands. She expected to be dead soon and didn’t really mind. Without her beauty, she was only half the queen she had been. And now that she was losing her mind, she wasn’t even that. She opened her eyes at the sound of the voices, trying to focus. Oric’s simples were very strong, and often made seeing difficult. Her groggy head tilted upward to listen. The offensive smell of her own body assailed her nose. How long had she been asleep? She couldn’t remember, but she had dreamed of Lukien.
“Cassandra?”
Cassandra turned toward the voice and saw Jancis in the doorway. Her friend’s pretty face glowed.
“Good, you’re awake.” Jancis floated toward the bed and sat down on the mattress. She put a hand to Cassandra’s face and brushed the hair out of her eyes. “How are you feeling?”
“I . . .” Cassandra swallowed, finding it hard to speak. “I was sleeping. I heard voices.”
Jancis reached for a glass of water on the bedside table. She put it to Cassandra’s lips, carefully cradling her head as she sipped.
“I’ve got good news, Cass. Akeela is back.”
Cassandra pushed the glass away. “He’s home?”
“He’s just arrived. He’s coming up to see you.”
Cassandra shook the fog from her mind. She struggled to sit up. “Is he all right? Did he say what happened?” She had a hundred questions suddenly, and it surprised her how worried she’d been about her husband. Then she remembered her horrible condition. “Look at me,” she groaned. “I’m a crone. I don’t want him to see me like this.”
“You look fine,” said Jancis, “and I don’t think it will matter to him anyway. He just wants to see you.”
“I look like a dead cat on the side of the road. Fetch a hairbrush.”
“Shhh,” urged Jancis. “Don’t tax yourself. Remember what Oric said—you have to rest.”
Jancis went to the side table and pulled a hairbrush from the drawer, then helped Cassandra sit up. Even that small effort exhausted Cassandra. Her eyes blurred and the pain in her stomach flared anew. Jancis began gently brushing her hair.
“The whole castle is talking about him,” said Jancis, smiling. “They knew you’d be happy to see him back.”
“Yes,” said Cassandra sadly. “Happy . . .”
“Oric is outside waiting for him. I’m sure he’ll tell him how you’ve been doing.”
Cassandra laughed mirthlessly. “He’ll tell him I’m dying.”
“Cass, stop now.”
Cassandra could barely keep from crying. She sat up in bed, too weak to brush her own hair, too blind to see clearly. Then she heard his voice. As the king stepped into the chamber, Jancis stopped brushing and gasped.
“My lady?”
Cassandra strained to see him, blinking to focus her eyes. “Akeela. You’re all right?”
“Yes,” he replied.
As he came to hover over the bed, she finally saw him clearly. Even through her blurred vision she could see the poison in his features. His eyes were sunken and his cheeks were hollow. A twisted smile curled his lips. Cassandra’s eyes widened, hardly believing she was seeing Akeela.
“Jancis, leave us,” Akeela ordered. When she hesitated, he snapped, “Stop staring and go.”
Jancis hurried from the chamber. Akeela took her place on the bedside. He gazed at Cassandra, taking her hand.
“My love . . .” His voice was edgy. “I was so worried about you.”
“Akeela,” gasped Cassandra, “what has happened to you?”
“Happened?” Akeela frowned. “Oh, you mean in Norvor. We won, Cassandra. Haven’t you heard?”
“No.” Cassandra shook her head, which was swimming with confusion and pain. “I mean, what happened? You look different.”
“Oric told me you’re not seeing well. Don’t worry, Cassandra. I look the same as when I left.”
Cassandra didn’t believe him. Her eyes were blurry, but she wasn’t blind. He looked older, and vastly tired. Something in his expression warned her he had changed.
“It was glorious, Cassandra.” Akeela tried to smile, but his voice betrayed the truth. It shook as he spoke, and Cassandra knew he was near tears. “We won. I beat them, Cassandra. I led the army and beat them. What do you think of that?”
“Yes,” said Cassandra, not knowing what to say. “You won.”
“And Mor isn’t a threat to us any more. I killed him, Cassandra.” He held out his hands. “I killed him with these, all by myself.”