The Return of Nightfall (65 page)

Nikolei Neerchus rose, opened the door, and gestured the two guards sent to arrest Nightfall through it. Arrayed in Alyndar’s prison colors, they stood at attention, awaiting a direct order from the king.

“Those laws are poorly written.”

“Then you can change them, Sire,” Baron Elliat said.

Tenneth sighed. “But they won’t apply retroactively, I’m afraid.”

The guards shifted nervously, still waiting.

Edward remained quietly in place, turning pages. Finally, he stopped. And smiled. “I’d gotten so caught up in pardonings, and all the rules surrounding them, I forgot the most obvious and important thing of all.”

The members of the Council sat straighter. Nightfall could tell at least some of them actually wanted the king to succeed, to see Nightfall go free rather than suffer execution. It was an epiphany for Nightfall, who realized the men who had condemned him were not necessarily bad, just blind and foolish in their own way. He truly believed every one of them wanted what they felt would best serve Alyndar. Unfortunately, most seemed convinced that meant relieving the king from the advice and presence of his lowborn chancellor.

“Sudian doesn’t need a pardon.” Edward rose, and the others scrambled to do the same. “The crime for which he was sentenced was never, in fact, committed.” He pounded a fist on the page to which he had opened the book, then spread his hand to indicate the other pages. “There can be no guilt, no innocence. And, by one of the oldest of all laws, no one, not even the king, can sentence a man for murdering someone who is still clearly and obviously alive.”

Nightfall rolled his eyes. Had these nobles not insisted on following every word and letter jotted in some moldering book, they would have seen what was obvious to a ten-year-old. “So, I’m a free man?” he tried.

“Not exactly, my lord,” said Tenneth, and Edward frowned. “You are still bound into the service of Alyndar as her chancellor.” He winked. “And I understand you’re shackled by a young lady, too.”

Laughs swept the room, dispelling much of the tension.

Nightfall shook his head.
Royal humor.
He wondered if he would ever understand it.

Baron Elliat put the matter into the proper, haughtier terms. “Without a crime, the sentence must be abandoned. Aside from your duties to Alyndar . . .” He dipped his head toward Tenneth, “. . . and as a man betrothed, you are, indeed, free.”

Nightfall let out a pent up breath.

King Edward waved at the waiting guards. “Chancellor Sudian is no longer under sentence. Report back to Captain Volkmier. You’re dismissed.”

To Nightfall’s surprise, the guards appeared even more uncomfortable. They shuffled in place until rescued by the general.

“Your Majesty, this seems like the best time to regretfully inform you that former Captain Volkmier is . . .” Simont measured his words, slowing them to an irritating crawl. “. . . detained . . . under . . . sentence . . . of . . .”

“. . . execution?” Edward filled in. “You’d better be joking.”

The silence that followed said otherwise. Edward threw up his hands, and Nightfall had to duck to avoid getting accidentally struck in the face. “It’s a wonder the castle walls are still standing.” He paced, his tread heavy with reawakening anger. “Which other of my loyal servants have been sentenced to death by a High Council gone mad with power?”

The last member of the Council, Sir Alber Evrinn, finally spoke. “Your Highness, I can understand your chagrin, but please show some forbearance. The Council did not act in haste, or without reason. We believed both men a credible and imminent threat to Alyndar.”

Baron Elliat added swiftly, “And there are no others, Sire.”

Khanwar.
Nightfall harbored no doubt the adviser-turned-traitor had manipulated Volkmier’s arrest. Likely, the chief of prison guards had approached Khanwar in private, to grant Nightfall the promised time to work before publicly revealing Edward’s betrayer. Khanwar had used the secrecy of their meeting to his advantage, relying on his connections to the admiral to get Volkmier arrested before he could reveal Khanwar’s crime. It would not surprise Nightfall to learn Khanwar had also pieced together the circuitous and ancient laws that had made his pardon impossible.

Edward ignored the baron, attention fixed on the quiet and homely knight. Alber had reason for choosing this moment to speak. “Captain Volkmier served my father faithfully for as long as I can remember.” He glanced pointedly at the general and the admiral. “Longer than either of you. What could he possibly have done to deserve such a sentence?”

For once, Nikolei Neerchus had nothing to say. Denied the opportunity to sit by Edward’s decision to stand, he hovered with both hands firmly on the tabletop.

Without a cryptic reference to the loss of his command, Simont Basilaered proved bolder. “Sire, he confessed to assisting in a prison break.”

Edward’s brows rose. “Volkmier? Assist a prison break? Never!”

Nightfall leaned in to whisper, “Sire, is it still a prison break if the one he assisted did not commit a crime?”

Edward’s brows jumped higher, nearly into his hair. “You, Sudian?”

Nightfall clamped his mouth shut, hoping he had not just made things worse in his attempt to rescue Volkmier. His insistence on secrecy had probably proved the guardsman’s downfall.

“I’m sorry, Sire.” Tenneth said tiredly, guessing what Nightfall must have said. “But Sudian’s guilt or innocence now doesn’t matter. Volkmier knew the sentence at the time, knew he was committing an act of treason.”

“No!” Nightfall could not take any more. “He never helped me. No one helped me. I escaped by myself.”

Several of the Council stiffened. Alber shook his head. “I’m afraid Volkmier has confessed.” He sighed. The skin beneath his sloping eyes sagged darkly, making them appear even sadder. His lids drooped over his muddy eyes. “Since the Lifthranians brought word of your return in the company of Sudian, I’ve spent every moment trying to find some way to save your chancellor with a pardon. Volkmier, I’m afraid, falls prey to all the same constraints as Sudian did.” He indicated the book with a weary wave. “Not a word in there I haven’t read, not a single rule I didn’t study.” He sighed. “If I could take my vote back, I would. I’d change history itself for Alyndar. Sire, I’m afraid it’s hopeless.”

“Hopeless,” Edward repeated, sinking into his chair. Something familiar flashed through his eyes, a zealous fire Nightfall alternately loved and dreaded. “Nothing is hopeless.” He flopped the book open to its first page. “Get out of here, all of you. I need some time alone to read.”

The members of the High Council filed from the room, followed by the pair of guards and, lastly, by Nightfall. He could do nothing to help here, and he knew the servants of the castle would see to any need Edward might have. He would have to approach the problem in his own way. He headed toward the prison guards, intending to demand they take him to see Volkmier.

The two knights on the High Council, Alber and Tenneth, caught Nightfall before he framed his request. “A word, please, Sudian.”

Nightfall weighed his options, then gave the men the benefit of his doubts. He watched the commanders and the baron descend, flanked by the guards, leaving the three men alone on the landing. He turned to face the knights.

As usual, Tenneth spoke first. “Sudian, sir, we just wanted to let you know how sorry we are about the way we treated you.”

Not quite ready to forgive men who had blithely sentenced him to death, Nightfall merely nodded.

“We badly misjudged you.” Tenneth looked to Alber for help, but continued talking, “We have many legitimate reasons for our mistake, including the mistrust King Rikard and Crown Prince Leyne had for you.”

The words sounded strange after Volkmier’s claim that the two royals’ deep trust for Nightfall had influenced his own feelings for the king’s unlikely chancellor. He also knew Volkmier was privy to information these knights never had, such as Leyne’s journal; and the king and prince had changed their opinions of him shortly before their deaths.

“I’m afraid our views were also colored by the deceit of Alyndar’s last chancellor.”

As if reading his thoughts, Alber took over. “But those are rationalizations. All that matters is we condemned the only man willing and able to save King Edward, and we’re eternally sorry.”

Nightfall supposed he could forgive them, but his own fate no longer hung in the balance. Another good man’s did. “What about Volkmier?”

Tenneth sucked in a deep breath, then loosed it in a huff, his shoulders slumping. “That was, clearly, another mistake. We thought Volkmier was a traitor when, in fact, he saw what no one else did.”

Alber added, “The world tends to condemn its ge niuses along with its demons.”

The words touched too close to home. “I trust King Edward to find a way to save Volkmier. The way he saved me.”

The knights exchanged looks, Tenneth’s expectant. Alber’s puppy eyes could not have looked more dejected. “Sudian,” the quieter knight said, “you were saved by a technicality that does not apply to Volkmier. His only hope really is a pardon.”

None of it made sense to Nightfall. “The king can do as he wishes, can’t he? The king’s word is law.”

“True.” Tenneth leaned against the wall beneath a tapestry depicting a great and ancient battle. “But once that law is spoken, it is written. And, once written, future kings are bound by it.”

“Forever?”

“Only until they change it. But doing so does not negate its previous existence. To do so would require restitution to every man, or his descendant, affected by that law through the ages.”

Nightfall had enough trouble allowing the current and regular laws of any kingdom to bind him. He could not imagine having to live by every proclamation through the ages. “It’s not as easy being king as most would believe.”

Both knights bobbed their heads. “That’s one reason neither of us sought the position.”

Tenneth added confidentially, “That, and I sure wasn’t going to compete against those two giants.” He tipped his head toward the stairs, though the general and the admiral had long since disappeared from sight.

Alber brought the conversation back to its point. “The king will not find a way to pardon Volkmier. I read that book cover to cover. Twice. It isn’t there.”

The situation made no sense to Nightfall. “If the king doesn’t want him executed, if even the men who sentenced him don’t want him executed, surely there has to be a way to make this right.”

“One would think so,” Tenneth said.

“It’s a definite anomaly in the law,” Alber continued. “One I’m sure our Edward will rectify.”

“But not in time to save Volkmier?” Nightfall guessed.

“That’s the problem,” Tenneth agreed.

Nightfall would not accept the inevitable. A man to whom he owed his own life, and Edward’s, would not die because of an antiquated book. “How does such a thing happen? How can the laws of supposedly just kings drop a faithful guard into a sink hole?”

Tenneth grimaced. “I don’t think it was deliberate. Just an accident of how laws came together through the years. This is the first time in any history I’ve ever learned that the council was in the position of passing sentences. Of course, it must have happened at least one time before, or at least someone foresaw it. Otherwise, we would not have any law to cover an incapacitated king without a legal heir.”

Nightfall could not help aiming his irritation at the men in front of him. They had, at least in part, caused the problem. “So why are you telling me this? Even I can’t stop the king from spending night and day combing that wretched old book for a solution.”

Again, the knights glanced at one another, this time with clear nervousness. Tenneth cleared his throat. “Sudian, Volkmier’s crime was assisting your break from prison.”

Nightfall nodded, wondering where this was going.

“We were hoping,” Tenneth added softly, “you would do the same for him.”

 

And so, Nightfall found himself, once again, a visitor deep in Alyndar’s dungeon. Torches guttered in only a few of the sconces; the guards bothered to keep only enough light to safely perform their duties. The dank darkness seemed to close in on Nightfall, and the odors of long unwashed bodies, sweat, vomit, and urine brought a throbbing pain to his head. He found Volkmier precisely where the guards had steered him, set apart from the other prisoners in a cell fit only for animals. Stripped of his colors, he wore unadorned linens of simple cut and sat on a pile of clean blankets his men had undoubtedly provided. Weary sadness touched his otherwise proud features. His red hair looked freshly washed and combed, and he only had a day’s growth of beard. Apparently, the guards accorded him more amenities than the other prisoners.

As Nightfall came into view, Volkmier rose and moved to the front of the cage. “Sudian. I knew you could do it.” The disgraced captain appeared more up-beat than Nightfall.

“I wish you hadn’t known.” Nightfall slammed a fist against the bars. “I didn’t need your help escaping.” He pounded the bars again, ignoring the pain flaring through the side of his hand. “I didn’t need your stupid, gods-be-damned help at all.”

Crouching, Volkmier studied Nightfall through the bars. “You’re welcome.”

Nightfall refused to be pacified with humor. He was angry, and he meant to stay that way. “You’re a moron, you know that? The stupidest man I ever met. Why in the Father’s deepest pits did you confess?”

“The king will pardon me.”

His hand already aching, Nightfall switched to kicking the bars. “The king can’t pardon you, you dim-witted ass.” He slammed his foot against metal again, barely controlling his real urge, to swing between the bars and kick some sense into Volkmier.

“He can’t?”

“He can’t! Some ridiculous law thing. I don’t get it exactly, but he can’t.”