“Someone’s coming down the hall,” Gudrin proclaimed. “It sounds like Uncle Koal.”
Dahlia laughed, leaning forward to kiss the back of her daughter’s head. “There’s no way you can hear your uncle all the way down the hall! Besides, council shouldn’t be over so soon.” Dahlia’s troubled eyes darted toward the door, however, and both Diddy and Deegan stiffened, preparing themselves for whatever might come.
Not even an instant later, Aodan Galloway burst through the bedchamber door and headed for the receiving room. His face remained gaunt, as it had been since the king’s death. “Someone’s comin’. Sounds like Koal.” He didn’t wait for any of them to respond before going to wait at the main door.
Heart thudding, Diddy climbed to his feet. Deegan turned in his chair, expression meek. No one said or did anything. Even Gudrin stopped fidgeting, her gaze blank as she no doubt focused on listening.
The door slammed open, and Koal’s livid voice could be heard a second later. “It takes half a mark just to get here! Do you know how many checkpoints I had to pass through? Not even Rishi was as well guarded as you and Dahlia are now.”
“Guarded, my arse,” came Aodan’s rough reply. “That son of a bitch has me under lock an’ key. I can’t even piss without him knowing.”
Their words subsided while the sounds of Koal putting his boots away and exchanging them for slippers could be heard. Diddy’s heart twisted. His father wasn’t here to enforce the rule any longer, but still no one wore shoes inside the royal suite.
“So, what was the verdict?” Aodan finally asked. “Why are ya out of council so soon?”
When Koal offered no immediate response, everyone within the suite held their breaths. Diddy’s lungs cried for air, but try as he might, he couldn’t force his chest to expand. His gaze shifted to his brother, who had gone pale and was visibly trembling. Diddy couldn’t imagine what Deegan must be going through. They’d all tried to keep themselves distracted while the fate of their crown prince was decided, but now, with Koal here to presumably deliver the news, there was no point in holding together the façade.
Koal Adelwijn strode through the doorway with Aodan on his tail. Tall and imposing, Koal’s presence had always given Diddy a sense of security. But not today. The grimace on his uncle’s face made Diddy’s heart sink and said more than any words ever could.
Dahlia’s eyes were already wet as she stood and reached for her brother. “Koal?”
“I’m sorry,” Koal said. “The High Council has spoken. Deegan will ride.”
The world spun out from under Diddy’s feet. He stumbled forward, knees knocking off each other, and found himself having to lean against the wall for support or risk toppling over. War? His little brother? How could this be happening? He’d already lost his father. He couldn’t lose his brother, too. His family was already so broken. How would they go on if another tragedy struck?
Sobs rose to greet his ears as Dahlia collapsed against Koal’s shoulder. Gudrin also wailed from her seat on the floor, rubbing both eyes with small, clenched fists, and Deegan sat rigidly on the edge of his chair. Diddy managed to collect himself long enough to place a hand on his brother’s arm, offering silent support.
Aodan’s face twisted into a reddened mask. “They can’t send him! There’re no more child soldiers!”
“That’s right,” gasped Dahlia. “He’s only thirteen. He’s too young.”
Koal remained grim. “Marc and I tried to make that point. We even had some others agree with us, but not enough for the final vote. We couldn’t sway Neetra. I’m sorry.”
“Damn him!” Aodan screeched, kicking over a vase. Diddy jumped as the vessel shattered into a million pieces upon the marble floor. “He’d better pray I never find him alone—”
“Aodan,” Koal warned. “My brother has ears everywhere. Don’t test your luck.”
The bodyguard didn’t seem to be listening. He stormed about the suite in a frightening rage. “I’m goin’ with you then! Hasain’s already volunteered himself, so if Deegan goes too, then that’s it for Rishi’s sons!”
Koal shook his head. “You can’t go.”
“The hell I can’t! I promised I’d protect Rishi’s children. He made me vow. I have to go.”
Aodan’s proclamation struck a chord deep in Diddy’s heart, and he found himself lost in memory, back in his father’s bedchamber as the King lay dying. The hour grew late and all who waited knew the end was imminent. The King’s consciousness had been fleeting and inconsistent for some time already, and he’d been sleeping fitfully for a mark or more when it happened.
Rishi opened his eyes and fixed a stern look across the room. Diddy glanced up from his seat at the foot of the bed, startled by how lucid his father seemed to be, so close to the end.
“Aodan,” Rishi rasped. “What are you doing?”
Aodan came to the King’s bedside, face mottled red and tear-stained. In one hand he carried the small vial, the bottle that was supposed to carry a remedy for influenza but instead had been the vessel used to poison Rishi.
The bodyguard knelt beside the King’s prone form, shaking from head to toe, clutching the poison bottle against his chest. “Anywhere ya go, I go, too. It was my vow—”
Rishi lifted a trembling hand and took the vial away. “No. Not now. This time you can’t come with me.”
“I can! There’s enough poison left inside the bottle—”
“No!”
Shouting drained him quickly, and Rishi sunk back into his pillow. For several agonizing moments, his ragged breaths filled the chamber, and everyone gathered around tensed, waiting for the worst, waiting for him to pass beyond their reach.
His stubborn nature didn’t allow him to succumb just yet, however. Even as his body failed him, Rishi’s eyes remained open and focused on Aodan. “Bird—” Penitence shook the King’s ebbing voice. He must have known time grew short. “I still need you, Bird.”
Aodan laid his damp face against the quilted bedspread. “What, Rishi? What more can ya ask of me?”
“The children. I need you to watch over them for as long as you can. It’s the last command I’m ever going to give you. I have to go. I have no choice. But you stay. Stay here. Promise that you’ll protect our family.”
Diddy shuddered. No matter how hard he tried to move past his father’s death, he always seemed to keep coming back to that day. He should have found a way to stop the poison’s spread. He shouldn’t have given into despair so quickly. If only he’d been stronger, braver—maybe if he’d kept fighting, his father would still be alive.
“Aodan, see reason.” Koal’s firm voice tickled the edge of Diddy’s consciousness and brought him back to the present. “I don’t trust Morathi for a moment. If you go, there’ll be a target on your back from day one. Let me do this. Let me protect Deegan. I stand a better chance of surviving, and you know it.”
Aodan paced rapidly back and forth across the room, saying nothing more. Diddy watched, not begrudging the bodyguard for even a moment. Diddy couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to be torn between duty and sound logic. How could someone ever make that kind of decision?
Deegan finally broke the impenetrable silence. As he took to his feet, the Crown Prince made tentative eye contact with Aodan. “It makes sense. Uncle Koal is seneschal for a reason. Father trusted him wholly. And so do I. Neetra and his cronies tried to have you thrown out when Father died. They’ll try to be rid of you now, too, if the chance arises. Don’t give them that chance. Stay here and help us dethrone Neetra.”
Aodan crossed the room in nearly a single bound. He went down on one knee, placing his hands on Deegan’s shoulders. “It’s war, Deegan. There’s no promise for yer safety.”
Deegan refused to crumble beneath the bodyguard’s fierce gaze, a true testament of the young prince’s courage. “There’s no promise of safety for any of us, but Uncle Koal is right. It’ll be easier for Neetra and Morathi to get rid of you if you go. Stay here. Keep Mother,
Diddy, and Gudrin safe. Help our allies bring down Neetra. I’ll be protected with Uncle Koal. I promise.”
Aodan rose without another word and stormed over to the window. He kept his back to them, but even without seeing his face, Diddy was certain Aodan wept. Diddy opened his mouth, wanting desperately to reassure the bodyguard that everything would be okay but faltered. What good would such empty words do? Surely they’d bring no comfort. No one could foresee the future. No one person could guarantee Deegan’s safety.
Gudrin ran to join Aodan. Despite being nine and entirely too old to be held, she raised her arms, and Aodan swept her up in an instant. He’d carried her for so long, Diddy couldn’t imagine what would happen once Gudrin grew too tall or heavy. Together, princess and bodyguard curled up on the windowsill, consoling one another.
Koal gave his sister one final embrace before turning his attention toward Deegan. “You need to ready yourself. We ride to the gathering field in one mark.”
Deegan held his chin high, like their father had always taught them to do. Determination hardened the young prince’s face, making him suddenly appear older, wiser. “I’m ready, but I—I don’t know what to pack.”
Koal offered a hand to his nephew. “I’ll help you prepare.”
Kirk focused his gaze straight ahead as he walked down the lonely corridor leading to Dean Marc Arrio’s office, being sure to keep up with Joel. They moved silently, accompanied by only the sounds of their boots shuffling against the stone floor.
The halls of Academy were barren at this hour, making the space feel even larger. Kirk absently counted the high, painted windows that lined the hall as he passed by each. Light filtered through the glass in a stunning display of rich reds and fluorescent yellows. The vibrant artwork was reminiscent of the motifs from Kirk’s native land, but the familiarity did nothing to lift his somber mood. He didn’t want to recollect his homeland. He wanted to forget it.
From the moment he’d escaped through that portal, Kirk thought he’d left the dangers of the Northern Empire behind. It had been a fresh beginning, a chance for Kirk and his sister to start anew. His sister had started over. Just one moonturn ago, she’d married Roland Korbin’s son and moved to the outskirts of Silver City to live on the Korbin manor with her new husband.
Kirk was happy for her. It seemed almost impossible that within the course of a year, she’d gone from being a lowly Imperial servant to a fugitive fleeing the Northern Empire to lady of an estate. Her marriage to an Ardenian man also offered Kenisha an extra level of security. It would be harder for those in power to exile her, should her loyalty to Arden ever be questioned.
Kirk held back a shudder, hoping such fears were unjustified. They’d both sworn themselves to serve their new country. Arden was their home now. They couldn’t be forced to leave. They had nowhere to go.
Kirk risked a sideways glance at Joel. “It appears the springtime rains will hold off a bit longer than usual. That should make for easier travel, don’t you think?” He hoped his question would pave the way for light conversation, but he knew better than to pine like a foolish child. The unfortunate circumstances around them were difficult to ignore.
Joel didn’t immediately answer, choosing to stare ahead at the great, oak door rather than meet Kirk’s eyes. The light from above bathed Joel’s skin in a rosy glow, but the downward pull of the mage’s lips was a clear indicator of his sullen mood.
“It would seem so,” Joel replied at length, his tenor voice a pitch lower than normal. “If the fair weather holds through the summer, I’m sure the people can look forward to a bountiful harvest.”
“Some good fortune would no doubt lift the country’s spirit. Not to mention army morale.”
Kirk’s attempt at optimism was met with a shrug of indifference. Kirk couldn’t fault his friend’s detached behavior. Joel was leaving for war, after all. Many of his friends and family were also going. It was surely impossible for him to find anything to be cheerful about. Kirk himself felt guilty that he wasn’t going, but when he’d voiced such concerns, Joel had been quick to remind him that someone had to remain behind and train Arden’s young mage students.
“Indeed.” Joel drew to a halt before the office door. “A bit of sunshine never hurt anyone.”
Kirk smiled. The conversation, pointless as it might be, was still a welcomed alternative to the uncomfortable quiet that had lingered since they’d departed the classroom.
I don’t really care what we talk about as long as I get him to speak. I’ll willingly discuss the weather all day long if it means avoiding silent lamentations of warfare and death.
“You say that now,” Kirk replied with a chuckle. “But wait until the army tents are filled to the brink with soldiers nursing burn wounds and complaining of sunstroke. The Healers will have their work cut out for them.”
“I’ll consider it a blessing if a little sunstroke is the worst problem our Healers face.”
Kirk winced. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to joke—”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about.” Joel’s clipped reply was as chilly as a Midwinter snowstorm. His icy blue eyes passed briefly over Kirk before refocusing on the door. “I know you’re trying to skirt the issue, Kirk, but there’s no need. We both know the reality of the situation. Tomorrow Arden marches to war. I’ve accepted it.”
Kirk swallowed the lump that had formed in the back of his throat.
Have you really though?
He refrained from asking the question aloud, opting to change the subject altogether. Motioning at the door, Kirk asked, “Is Dean Marc here? Should we knock?”
Joel raised a fist and tapped it three times against the wooden frame. “Guess we’ll find out.” There was no immediate answer.
He sighed and lowered his hand. “Apparently not. I had hoped we could speak with him before I left.”
Kirk wasn’t even sure why he was here, but whatever the reason, it had to be something important. True to his elusive nature, Joel had offered no details when he’d asked Kirk to come to the office with him.
“Do you want to wait?” Kirk asked. “Maybe Dean Marc will show up.”
Joel cast a worried gaze around. “I’m not sure how long I can wait. I still have to pack and report to my father at the gathering field.”
“Is it something I can tell the dean for you? I don’t mind waiting, if you must go.”
A sad smile flicked across Joel’s mouth. “Sometimes I believe your heart is almost too caring.”
Kirk gave the other man an incredulous stare. Too caring? Joel had helped save Kirk and his sister from an existence of misery within the Northern Empire. Kirk owed his very life to the Ardenian mage.
Joel leaned against the wall and wrapped his arms loosely around himself. “Thank you for offering, but no. This is something I have to speak to Marc about myself. And before you ask why I wanted you to come, it’s because I need you here. There’s something I want you to do while I’m gone, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you anything more until I make sure Marc is on board with the plan.”
Kirk nodded. “I’ll gladly help in any way I can. I know I’ve said it too many times already, but Keni and I really are indebted to you. We owe you our lives.”
“And I’ve reminded you on just as many occasions that without your help, we’d never have made it out of the Northern Empire alive. So that would really make us even, right?” A playful spark flashed behind Joel’s eyes, leaving Kirk to wonder if there’d been a time when such moments weren’t a rare occurrence. What had Joel been like as a child? Or as a student in Academy? Before all this nonsense with the new steward of Arden and the tragic death of the late King, had there been a time when Joel was happy?
“Fair enough,” Kirk replied at length. He raised his chin in a stubborn manner. “Then as a true and loyal friend, any task you ask of me, I’ll do my best to see it through.”
“Likewise. It means a great deal to me, that even in such dark times, I have someone I can trust.”
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br /> “I don’t know what I’ll do while you’re gone. With both you and Seneschal Koal leaving and Keni on the outskirts of Silver, I feel as though I’ll have no one here I can trust.”
“There are people you can trust, if you know where to look. Marc is one such person. My father would trust his very life with the dean, as would I. King Rishi confided in him, too. I can only speculate the number of secrets the King entrusted Marc with over the years.”
“Your family is close with Dean Marc then?” Kirk asked.
“Mm, yes. Da and Marc have been friends since they were enrolled in Academy together. He’s like a second father to me.” Joel lowered his voice to a whisper. “Truth be told, I’d trust Marc over certain kin of mine.”
Kirk shuddered as the words brought to mind both Liro and Neetra Adelwijn. It was hard to imagine that someone as kind and gentle as Joel could be related by blood to such monsters.
The sound of brisk footsteps stole the attention of both men. Kirk glanced up in time to see a dark figure round the bend in the hall.
Tall and trim, with jet black hair and eyes, Marc Arrio stormed toward the office in long strides. Dressed in an embellished jerkin crafted from fine leather and sporting calf-high boots polished to a sharp shine, he might have been more daunting if Kirk hadn’t known Marc to be anything but amiable.
As the dean drew nearer, though, it became apparent that an uncharacteristic scowl contorted his features. Kirk braced himself. Was something wrong?
It could be nothing, he reminded himself. Marc hasn’t exactly been acting normal lately. Ever since the King died—
“What are you two doing here?” Marc asked as he approached. “Shouldn’t you be preparing to leave, Joel?”
“Yes.” Hesitation lined Joel’s smooth voice. “I need to speak with you before I go. Are you—all right?” He placed a hand on Marc’s shoulder, and Kirk became all too aware of the dark bags beneath the dean’s eyes.
Marc shook his head. “No. I’m not all right. Neetra called for an emergency council meeting this morning. I’m just returning from there now.”
Battle Dawn: Book Three of the Chronicles of Arden Page 4