Valam reached out a hand to her, groped until he found her face and cheeks. He wiped away the tears he found there. “It is my own fault for not seeing,” he whispered.

  Adrina dipped a thick cloth in the cold water of the basin, used the cloth to wipe away the strange white powder from his face and eyes. “What do you mean?”

  Valam sighed, steadied her hand. The cool water took the sting from his eyes and at long last he was able to open them. “You’ve seen her too, haven’t you?”

  Adrina stared into the milky white of his eyes and started to shiver. “You’re not making any sense? I don’t understand.”

  Valam grabbed the cloth from her hand, stood, went to the wash basin. He stuck his face in the icy cold water and swished his head back and forth. The water in the basin turned to a milky white. He raised his head, water dripped from his face and hair.

  Adrina put a clean cloth in his hand. He used it to dry himself. “You can see,” she whispered as she watched him.

  “I see,” Valam said as he dabbed his face.

  “But how is that possible? Your eyes are the eyes of the blind and yet you see. What happened? You must tell me what happened?”

  Valam touched a hand to her shoulder. He towered over her as she looked up at him. She shivered as the milky white that had covered his eyes a moment ago faded. She could tell Valam could feel it go. A transformation of sorts was taking place before her eyes. Soon all that remained of the blind eyes was a faint trace of white dulling the brown of his eyes.

  “The old woman,” Valam said after a long silence. “The old woman. You’ve seen her too, I know.”

  Adrina didn’t understand at first. Valam explained. She told him about the encounters with the Lady of the Forest and the strange woman in the watch tower.

  “The woman in the tower, that’s her,” Valam said. “Tell me more. Tell me everything.”

  “There isn’t much to tell,” Adrina said as she tried to remember the details of the encounter that seemed to have happened a lifetime ago. She told him more of what she remembered.

  He stared blankly at the wall for a long time after she finished. For a time Adrina was afraid the blindness had returned. Then he turned to her, smiled. She didn’t understand why he was grinning. “A gift, don’t you see,” he said. “We’ve been given a gift. A glimpse at what could be. We’ve been given a choice. Change comes.”

  “That’s what she said,” Adrina said excitedly. “That’s what she said. ‘Child, smell it. It comes, can you not tell?... Change, child. Sadness cannot hold forever the land.’ Change comes.”

  Valam kissed her cheek and hugged her. “It is good not to be alone in this,” he whispered in her ear.

  “You are not alone,” she whispered back.

  “If I were I’d go mad.”

  * * *

  Myrial touched a hand to the closed door, continued on her way. As she walked to the lower level of the palace her heart went out to them as never before. Valam had been her first love, a girlish crush really. He’d never had eyes for her, only her for him, and she’d been too young to even know what love really was. She still didn’t know true love but she understood it better now.

  What she felt for Valam now was more what a sister felt for a brother. It was the same way she felt about Adrina. Adrina was the sister she never had and Valam was the brother she never knew.

  She hummed happily as she walked. She had a pretty voice when it was raised to song and cheer.

  The day’s tasks would seem mundane compared with the excitement of the last few days, but a household did not run itself. She would see to the stewards and the cooks first, even though it meant she would have to deal with the former housemaster directly to do so. Most of the stewards and cooks only listened to the old dog despite her best efforts. She didn’t mind though, Sedrick Bever knew his place well enough, and through him she was learning to run the enormous household.

  She was no fool. She knew better than to approach Sedrick alone. First she would stop by her chambers to freshen up and find an escort.

  Garette Timmer waited outside her chamber door. He nodded to her as she passed by. She smiled. If there was anyone she was getting a crush on it was Garette Timmer. He was strong and true. He’d stand outside her door day and night without reprieve if she asked him too, which she never would. His day duty was enough of a reminder to those who needed such a reminder. She was housemistress now. There was no disputing it.

  As she bathed she thought of Garette. He was cute with a wisp of his father the swordmaster in him. This gave him a sharp edge, a look of danger. Fresh clothes were laid out and waiting for her when she looked up from bubbles and steam.

  It had been a long day already. She was tired, but reminded herself that for many the day was just beginning. There was so much to do, so very much to do. Keeping everything perfect, or as close to perfect as possible, meant that even in the wee hours of the night someone somewhere was working in support of the household.

  When she began she vowed that she wouldn’t forget the night workers as Sedrick Bever had done. Sure, the day cooks, stewards and workers were the ones whose labor most directly impacted the king, his family, honored guests, and the like, but the night staff had their place too.

  One of her first official actions as housemistress had been to double their daily copper. She had gained important allies in doing so, but that had not been her intent. She saw no reason the night staff made half as much as their daytime counterparts. They were no less important. Their work no less meaningful.

  She was dressing when the knock came on the door. She looked up, called out, “Enter, please.” She blushed when she saw it was Princess Adrina, blurted out a quick apology. “What brings you to my door, Dri?”

  Adrina smiled at the familiar childhood name. It always brought memories, even for Myrial. “Everything,” she said. “Everything. I’ve never seen him so shaken. It was as if all the world fell away and he was left standing alone on a mountain top.”

  Myrial helped Adrina to a chair, pretended for Adrina’s benefit that she knew nothing. She called out to Garette. He came running into the room. “Where’s Anri?” she asked. Anri was the only member of the lavish personal staff of the former housemaster she had retained. “Send for him. Tell him we need food and drink.”

  Garette hurried away. She called after him, “Drink, first. Something warm, but not hot.”

  “We’re alone now,” Myrial whispered. “I’m here for you.”

  “I’ve never seen him like this. It’s like… like…” her voice trailed off. She sat quietly until the refreshments arrived. Myrial didn’t push for more information.

  Myrial thanked Anri, nodded to the drink. She poured the deep black kindra-ale into two cups. One she handed to Adrina. As Adrina sipped the drink, the color returned to her face. “You’ve been walking the gardens,” Myrial said, “You’re likely to catch a chill that way. Winter’s here. I can feel it. The snows will come early.”

  “I’ve lost him.”

  “Valam will recover. I know he will.”

  “Not Valam, Emel. He’s really gone this time, isn’t he? This isn’t like High Road. There was no promise of return.”

  “I think he is,” Myrial said solemnly, “I think he is.”

  “One man comes back into my life, another goes. Does it always have to be that way?”

  Myrial didn’t get a chance to respond. A loud alarm sounded throughout the palace. The two could hear the tinny gongs from the main level, followed by those spreading the alarm below. The clank clack of armored feet running down the halls followed.

  Garette Timmer raced into the room. The open door provided a view into the hall. Adrina could see lines of guardsmen hurrying down the hall, weapons in hand.

  Garette’s face showed unease. To Adrina and Myrial the alarm meant little more than the rousing of the guards, but Timmer understood the signal within the alarm. The beats had a meaning. Each series carried a message.

  Adrina and Myrial looked at each other anxiously. They followed Garette down the crowded hall. He had enlisted four other guardsmen as their escort. Two of the guards cleared a path in front of them, two brought up the rear.

  To onlookers it might have seemed that the palace was an ant hill suddenly come alive. In many ways this was true. The entire palace guard was on alert. The palace was sealed. No one allowed in. Only guards were allowed out. They poured out of the palace and into the streets of Imtal.

  “The king has been attacked,” went the whisper in the hall. This set Adrina’s heart and mind on fire. Myrial tried to calm her, tried to remind her that she must find control, keep her composure, act like the princess she was.

  Adrina couldn’t. Her world was collapsing around her. Suddenly it seemed she was the one standing alone on a mountain top, the world in chaos all around her. It had taken years to come to terms with her mother’s death. What would she do if something happened to her father? She couldn’t cope with that pain. She didn’t want to have to.

  She stopped abruptly. Garette nearly collided with her. She started screaming hysterically. Everything and everyone around her stopped as if frozen in their places. Heads turned, eyes met hers.

  Myrial grabbed Adrina’s arms, smothered her in an embrace, all the while shouting, “Go on, go on! Get out of here!”

  “Look at me, Adrina,” Myrial said, “We can get through this. We can get through this.”

  “You don’t understand,” Adrina said through sobs. “Not again, I can’t. I can’t go through this again.”

  “You’re strong, Adrina. Be strong now.”

  Alarms began to sound again. Myrial looked to Garette. “Assembly,” he said.

  “What does that mean?”

  “Captain’s muster, the Hall. We must hurry.”

  Myrial turned back to Adrina. “We can do this together, you and I.”

  Adrina nodded absently. They started walking. Within minutes they were standing outside the great hall.

  “Are you ready to do this?” Myrial asked, knowing what Adrina knew. If the king sat on the throne, he lived; if Valam sat on the throne, the king was dead.

  Adrina’s heart pounded in her ears. The doors opened. Her worst fears were realized. She had a direct view of Valam. Their eyes met. It was all she could do to stand.

  The weight of the world crushed her.

  She couldn’t breathe. Her face flushed. Her knees buckled. Only Myrial’s arm locked in hers kept her from falling. Everything seemed surreal as if she looked in on another’s nightmare.

  For an instant the iris of Valam’s eyes flashed white. It was as if Adrina had a window into his very soul. He stood beside their father’s throne. His arm rested on top the thick dark wood on the mighty chair’s back. He wore the crown jewels, and the great green jewel atop the crown glistened in the waning light of the day.

  Beside Valam stood a woman Adrina had never seen before. She wore a circlet of gold. The color of the woman’s thin silk dress was matched perfectly to the olive color of her skin. She looked like a queen, though Adrina knew she wasn’t. It wasn’t until the woman turned to look at her that Adrina saw, really saw.

  She understood then, but she didn’t want to. She started to scream. She wanted to scream.

  A voice called out to her. The sound of it as if the person speaking were far away, far away in another time and place. She gasped.

  Feeling light-headed she put her hand to her face, closed her eyes. When she opened her eyes moments later she found she was still standing before the closed doors of the great hall. “Would you like to sit a moment?” a voice asked her. She nodded. She did need to sit.

  Garette and Myrial helped Adrina to a chair near the hall’s entrance. Adrina closed her eyes and breathed. All around her the palace was in an uproar. Alarms continued. Guards ran along the halls. Doors opened and closed. People shouted.

  Someone handed her a cup, bade her drink. She put the cup to her lips and drank deeply. The bitter liquid went down poorly. She spit what she couldn’t swallow back into the cup. “That’s awful!”

  “Stout,” said a strong, clear voice. “The bitters clear the mind.”

  Adrina made face, looked up at Garette Timmer. “That’s awful,” she repeated.

  Garette grinned. “Good to see you’ve regained your senses, princess. Trying times test a person’s mettle. What kind of person are you?”

  At first Adrina was taken aback by his directness, outrage followed. How dare he speak to her as if she were a commoner. How dare he speak to her in that tone. Her friends could speak candidly but Garette Timmer was a stranger to her. “Guard your tongue,” she shot back, her face flushed with emotion.

  “She’s regained her senses, all right,” Myrial said, winking at Garette. “We can sit here, or we can go in.”

  Adrina understood. She took Myrial’s hand.

  The three walked back to the doors of the great hall, their four-guard escort only a few steps behind. Adrina looked directly at the door guards, each in turn. They opened the doors in unison. Adrina led the way into the hall.

  Her feet held steady when she saw Valam standing on the raised dais directly in front of the throne. He turned to look back at her, disquiet showing clearly in his eyes. She caught a breath in her throat. He took a step toward her, opening the view to the throne. It was empty.

  Chapter Nine:

  King’s Decree

  Valam saw Adrina enter with Myrial and the young guardsman, Garette Timmer. His heart beat faster and faster as he took a few quick steps toward her. His hands were raised as they met. “This isn’t what you’re thinking,” he said matter of factly, “The city has been ordered sealed. The garrison and palace are on full alert. The king’s decree.”

  “Father?” Adrina asked, “He’s…”

  “Of a mind to tell Lady Isador Froen d’Ga to return to Imtal.”

  Adrina turned, looked at the speaker. She smiled, found herself at a loss for words. Her father, King Andrew Alder, sat at a long table with Father Jacob and Keeper Martin. Across from him sat high-ranking palace and garrison commanders.

  “Now then,” King Andrew said turning back to the commanders, “the heir to the throne and my daughter stand before you. There is no foul play.”

  “The messenger,” protested Chancellor Volnej. “He is without question a man of honor.”

  King Andrew stood. His eyes seemed to catch the last of the sunlight streaming through the window as he spoke. “And yet my children stand before you. There’s been no kidnapping, no murder, no attempt.” His eyes had been fixed on the commanders, but now he turned and looked directly at the chancellor who stood at the far end of the table. “You are dismissed. Return to Council Hall, bring this message—those responsible for this folly will be dealt with. Judgment will be swift; retribution, final.”

  To Valam and other onlookers it was hard to tell whether the old chancellor collapsed or bowed so deeply that he got himself into a position that age simply wouldn’t allow him to recover from. Either way, he had to be physically escorted out of the hall.

  King Andrew turned to Adrina then. “My daughter, light of my life, listen carefully and speak truly. Has anyone made an attempt on your life or the life of your brother this day?”

  Adrina didn’t turn away from his piercing gaze. She answered directly and without hesitation. “No father. Who would say such a thing? I’ve been with Housemistress Myrial discussing matters of household, and to the market.”

  “Who indeed?” said the King, turning back to the commanders. “We must end this. The rabble rousers must be shown their place. We will have no more discord, no more dissent in council.” A jeweled sword lay on the table in its sheath. He picked it up, drew the sword and raised it high, purposefully, so that the fine steel blade could catch the last of the sun’s rays.

  Valam knew what the sword signified. Commanders were warriors at heart, and warriors understood strength. The king wasn’t as old and weak as the whispers. He could still wield the sovereign blade, play it in the air as if it were a toy.

  But then the king did something that surprised everyone. In one swift motion, he lunged across the table and drove the blade into the chest of the man across from him. The blade easily sliced through the man’s breastplate, finding his heart. Before he could draw a breath or scream, the man lay dead atop the king’s blade.

  Captain Imson Adylton who had been sitting to the left of the dead man, gulped at the air as if he were a fish out of water. Only the fact that he was the king’s staunchest supporter brought quick words to his lips. He said, his voice a whisper at first, “For king and country… For king and country!”

  Others joined the chant. Some hastily, others reluctantly.

  As Valam watched there was a clear shift in the room. Some of the commanders who moments before had been haughty and arrogant now found themselves at a loss. Others who were loyal supporters of the king clearly felt vindicated. King Andrew wasn’t weak. The reign of his line wasn’t at an end.

  The whispers were baseless. The king, who stood before them wielding a sword, slaying the chief whisperer, wasn’t weak. He was strong and true, unafraid to confront those who were afraid to confront him. His justice was as true as his sword arm.

  Valam and Imson pulled Captain Atford from the table, dumped him on the floor near the exit doors. As Valam passed Adrina on the return, he squeezed her arm, whispered, “Be strong, if ever, now.”

  Adrina took a deep breath, checked her demeanor, whispered to herself, “Be strong, if ever, now.”

  King Andrew pounded his fists on the table. “Let the word go forth from this hall with your own lips. The House of Alder stands. All who oppose it will find death at the hands of a just king.”

  It was a dismissal. The commanders knew it. They fled the room as though their feet had wings. Only Imson Adylton lingered. He had been there in Quashan’. He understood the treachery that had been at hand then and he understood what was happening now. He put a hand on Valam’s shoulder, spoke clearly, “There is nothing you can’t ask of me. Ask and it shall be done so long as I live and breathe.”

 

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