“I thought it was a bear?”
“Could have been,” Lord Thius allowed. “But it could also have been a human predator. The point is, this kingdom needs order, and Master D’Arnlo and I plan to bring it about.”
“You mean with a master race, enslavement of the masses, and a large military?”
“If that is what it takes.”
Relam clenched his jaw angrily, and glanced at Oreius. He could not read the old man’s expression, a mingling of guilt, regret, anger, and hatred.
“We did the Orell War all wrong,” Lord Thius continued. “We never should have fought them. We should have enslaved the horse masters, made them our servants. This is what will be done to the other peoples of this world. The plainsmen, the men of the swamps. The miners of Mizzran. The true Sthan will rule over them as lords and dukes and earls. And we will be a strong kingdom once again. None will dare oppose us.”
“Who is there to oppose us?” Cevet asked. “We rule the entire world.”
“But we still have enemies,” Lord Thius warned. “Suppressed nations, lawless bands, pirates. And there was the Vertaga War ten years ago . . . the point is, Cevet, we will be unstoppable.”
Cevet said nothing for several seconds. Relam could practically hear the lordling thinking. “Unfortunately, father, you are not unstoppable yet,” he said at last.
“What was that?”
“Enter!” Cevet called.
Relam threw the office doors wide and marched in, Oreius at his side, Relam’s four guards behind him. The young prince quickly took in his surroundings, searching the office for threats. Four walls, no windows, three of the walls covered in floor to ceiling bookcases packed with written works. In the center of the room, a wide, sturdy desk with two comfortable chairs in front of it and a carved wooden chair behind.
And, standing with his hands gripping the back of the wooden chair was Lord Thius.
The Head of the Assembly recoiled visibly as Relam entered, then his grip tightened on the chair until his knuckles turned white. “Impossible,” he murmured.
Relam stopped just in front of the desk, out of Thius’ reach, but close enough to intimidate him. “Ryker Thius,” he said quietly. “Are you surprised to see me?”
“Shouldn’t I be, your majesty? After all you went missing last night. I feared you were killed or kidnapped.” Thius cleared his throat anxiously. “It is good to see you alive and well.”
Relam said nothing, just tilted his head slightly and stared at Thius. The lord shifted uncomfortably, starting to sweat despite the cool room.
“How much did you hear?” Cevet asked, breaking the silence at last.
“Everything,” Relam replied. “You did well, Cevet.”
“Truly brilliant,” Oreius added gruffly.
“Cevet?” Lord Thius whispered, a wounded look on his face. “You were part of this?”
“Yes,” the lordling said coldly. “I was. The moment I heard what you and D’Arnlo were up to this morning-”
“You were eavesdropping!”
“Hard not to, really,” Cevet said, rubbing the side of his nose. “You were acting strangely this morning and the two of you were talking pretty loud. Almost shouting, really. It’s a wonder the whole Citadel didn’t know.”
“After all I have done for you,” Lord Thius muttered. “My own son betrays me.”
“Because you were prepared to throw away what morals you had for a little more power,” Cevet snapped. “Assassinating the entire royal family? Is your conscience broken? Disabled, maybe? Or was it never there to begin with and I just never saw it?
“Cevet,” Relam said warningly.
“No,” the lordling said, shaking Relam off. “He needs to hear this. You need to know what you have done for me, father. You have brought shame on our family name, made me an object of suspicion and mistrust. Going forward, no one can trust me. ‘His father was a traitor,’ they’ll say. And, ‘he betrayed his own father, how can we expect him not to turn on us’?”
“Which is why you should have gone along with my plan,” Lord Thius growled. “Then we would not have that problem.”
“Right,” Cevet laughed bitterly. “You can legitimize anything with enough soldiers, right father?”
“That was D’Arnlo, not me-”
“Practically one in the same, aren’t you?” Cevet said, cutting him off. “You’re both traitors. And you will suffer the consequences. And there is no one who will lift a finger to help you. Not me, not your noble friends, not your Assembly. Not even my mother, who you used as an agent for murder.”
Lord Thius bent over the back of his chair as though he had taken a physical blow. “It . . . it doesn’t matter,” he murmured. “None of it does. D’Arnlo will be here any moment to deal with you.”
“He’s dead,” Relam countered. “Sorry to ruin your last hope of survival.”
“Dead?”
“Dead,” Relam agreed, nodding. “He took his own life once it was plain he was beaten.”
“No,” Thius muttered, raking a hand through his hair. “This cannot be happening.”
“It’s over, father,” Cevet said gently. “The only way you can even begin to redeem yourself is to surrender and help us capture the rest of the men involved in this plot.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” the traitorous lord replied mockingly. “And if I did the same thing as D’Arnlo did?”
“You won’t,” Relam replied confidently. “You don’t have his strength. Galen, bring the handcuffs.”
“Yes, your majesty,” Galen said immediately, stepping forward and producing a set of handcuffs and a small key.
“No!” Lord Thius wrenched open a desk drawer and pulled out a jeweled dagger. “Stay back, I’m warning you!”
Galen paused, glancing back at Cevet and the others.
“Don’t worry,” the lordling said grimly. “You can keep going. He won’t actually take his own life.”
Galen continued to advance on the Head of the Assembly. Thius turned the blade so that it rested just below his ribcage, ready to thrust up and in, and so end his life.
“Last chance!” he warned, licking his lips.
Galen made no reply, merely circled the desk and extended the cuffs.
Lord Thius closed his eyes and gripped the dagger tightly in both hands. Relam watched as muscles in the man’s arms twitched and tendons flexed his hands. A vein began to bulge at the renegade lord’s neck, and sweat broke out across his forehead.
Then, the dagger fell from his hands with a clatter.
Galen leapt forward and closed the cuffs around Thius’ wrists before the traitor could change his mind and stab the palace guard with the dagger instead.
“I submit,” Thius said belatedly, looking down at the chains that bound him. “I confess to everything: plotting with D’Arnlo, conspiring to send the assassins last summer, the death of the queen.”
“And the king?” Relam asked sharply.
Thius frowned. “I thought he was killed by a bear?”
“Just checking,” Relam muttered. “Anyway, Lord Thius you are under arrest. You are stripped of your titles and privileges as Head of the Assembly. You will be imprisoned for now, and you will testify to the Assembly later today when I address them to explain the events of the last twenty-four hours. Do I have your word that you will follow the terms of this agreement?”
“You do,” Thius whispered, hanging his head, defeated.
“Good.” Relam turned to his guards. “Galen, Eric. Take him to the Citadel and turn him over to Narin. He will keep our prisoner safe for us.”
And, without another word, the co-conspirator was led from the room, a once mighty and proud lord brought low.
Chapter 46
Five hours later, Relam marched along the River Road with his four guards, Oreius, and Cevet. Their destination loomed ahead of them, Assembly Hall, where the Assembly of Nobles and the High Council met. The building was dominated by an impressive domed
roof, and the entrance facing the River Road featured a wide porch with several thick columns supporting a peaked roof.
The small band did not pass through this monolithic entry though. Instead, they moved unobtrusively around the side of the building to a smaller, less ornate entrance. Here, Cevet took the lead and guided the others through a network of narrow hallways until they reached a small anteroom that adjoined the vast hall where the Assembly met.
Relam moved to the far end of the room, so that he was standing beside the door to the main hall. That single, heavy wooden door was all that stood between Relam and hundreds of nobles. He wiped his hands on his pants, trying to dry them, but they started sweating again in moments.
“Remember,” Oreius said gently. “You are not on trial. You have done nothing wrong. You are in the right and you acted as you should have. There is nothing to be worried about.”
“What if some of them were part of Thius’ scheme?” Relam muttered.
“That might be a problem,” Oreius allowed. “But all the same, you’ll be fine. If things get ugly, I’ll knock some heads for you.”
Relam snorted. “I’d like to see that. The greatest sword master of all time versus hundreds of angry nobles. That would be a slaughter.”
“Well, it wouldn’t just be me,” Oreius pointed out. “Your guards will be there as well, just in case.”
“That’s right,” Wil piped up from behind Relam. “You say the word, your majesty, and we’ll put them in their place.”
“No fighting,” Relam said quickly. “Unless things get extremely out of hand. This will be a peaceful, organized meeting and we will smoothly move on from this catastrophe.”
“Hopefully,” Oreius muttered. But his guarded expression said that he believed their chances of accomplishing that were slim.
“It’s time,” Relam murmured, glancing at the door. “Are you ready?”
“We’re right behind you, your majesty,” Galen promised.
Relam nodded and took a deep breath. “Right. Form up and follow me.”
His guards formed two files behind Relam, Oreius slightly in front of the first row. Relam checked the formation, then reached out and opened the door to the Assembly Hall, stepping through quickly.
He was not prepared for the wall of noise that assaulted his ears almost immediately. Whispering, murmuring, shouting, calling, yelling. A cacophony of sounds as over two-hundred nobles argued about this and that while they waited for the meeting to start. Fortunately, this also meant they were distracted when Relam entered and it gave him time to survey the room as he walked to the podium.
Most of the space was taken up by a semicircular section filled with curving rows of seats. The back wall was lined with pillars that soared up to a half-dome ceiling covered with gold leaf and intricate scrollwork. Aside from the door Relam had just come through, there was only one other exit, a set of double doors at the back of the room, directly opposite the podium.
The podium was a simple, square lectern. Sturdy and useful, but not overly impressive or intimidating. It stood on a raised section in the center of the semicircle, at the front of a small, square stage. In front of the podium, at ground level, was a long, strangely shaped table. The edge closest to the stage was straight as an arrow, the other side gently curved to match the curvature of the room. Behind the table sat the High Council of the Assembly, the great lords mixed in with a few high-ranking minor lords.
Relam strode directly to the podium and looked out over the room, at the sea of milling bodies. Few had noticed him, but conversation was slowly dying out as others became aware of their unexpected guest. Nobles stopped in place and turned to look at him, mouths dropping open in astonishment.
When at last silence came over the hall, Relam leaned forward over the podium.
“Please, be seated,” he called. “Then we can begin this special meeting of the Assembly.”
The nobles hesitated, then scurried to their places around the room, settling amongst a rustle of rich fabrics. Relam waited a moment longer, looking around to see where everyone had ended up, then spoke again.
“Thank you. Now, some of you are no doubt surprised to see me here, since I disappeared from a burning room in the palace last night. I am before you to present the events of the last twenty-four hours, and some occurrences leading up to those events.”
“Where is Lord Thius?” a minor lord called from the fifth row.
Relam met the man’s gaze evenly. “You will hear from him,” the young prince said. “But perhaps not in the capacity you are accustomed to.”
Murmuring swept through the hall at this. Relam looked down at the High Council table, situated below him, making eye contact with each of the great lords in turn. “I ask that all questions be held until the end,” he said quietly. “That is the best way to make sure you hear everything that has happened and no important details are left out. Am I clear?”
The great lords nodded gravely. Garenes fixed Relam with a calculating look, as though trying to guess at what exactly was about to transpire. Relam ignored the great lord and began his story, nearly tired of repeating it at this point.
Predictably, the lords were unable to hold their silence throughout. Each time there was an outburst, Relam pressed his lips tightly together and waited until the lords had settled, pointedly ignoring all questions directed at him. Eventually, the Assembly got the message and held their silence until the end. Relam mentioned Lord Thius’ arrest briefly but did not go into detail.
As soon as it was apparent he was finished, the hall began rumbling with questions and whispers as the nobles present discussed Relam’s account of events. Many appeared deeply unsettled. Others seemed frankly skeptical. Some looked as though they had been clubbed over the head. Relam surveyed them all slowly, taking time to try and gauge the reaction of his audience.
“Now,” he said when he felt that the nobles had been given enough time to talk amongst themselves. “Before you ask questions, I would like one other person to speak. He is the former Head of this Assembly and its High Council, Ryker Thius.”
Oreius strode quickly to the door to the anteroom and wrenched it open. Ryker Thius stumbled out, still in handcuffs, flanked by Tar Agath and a pair of Hadere’s most trusted city guards. Relam had not wanted Citadel guards assigned to this task, not yet. Not when the treachery was so fresh and recent.
Relam stepped to one side of the podium and watched as Thius moved towards the front of the stage. An expectant hush had fallen over the nobles. The traitor licked his lips nervously, then bowed his head, avoiding the gazes of the men he had so recently commanded the respect of.
“My Lords,” he began, his voice low and husky. “It’s all true.”
The hall exploded in muted whispers, like a chorus of hissing snakes. Relam looked around slowly, meeting the eyes of some of the offenders, and the whispering died abruptly.
“Every word of it,” Thius continued. “I was the Head of this Assembly, but it was not enough. When D’Arnlo approached me with the opportunity to become a king, to have my name etched into history as the first in a new line of monarchs, I hardly hesitated. I betrayed everyone that day. You. The people of this kingdom, the royal family. My family.”
The traitor hesitated, on the brink of saying more, but merely shook his head and wrapped up his confession. “I confess to everything that I am accused of in this matter, though I cannot honestly say that I regret it.”
The Assembly muttered darkly at this, glaring up at Thius as he stepped back from the podium to stand beside Tar and his guards. Relam stepped back to the podium. “Are there any questions?” he asked quietly.
“What is being done to round up other possible traitors?” Lord Laurencian asked immediately.
“The Citadel has been taken over by loyal supporters of the crown,” Relam replied. “They will work with some of those involved in the battle to identify and capture the remaining elements of the traitors.”
“What about the k
ing?” another lord in the second row asked. “You did not mention if he was murdered, and Lord Thius did not confess to it.”
“Ryker Thius is not accused of the king’s murder,” Relam said, stressing the traitor’s name and ignoring his former title. “Nor does he know of any involvement on the part of Bene D’Arnlo. As far as we know, my father was killed by a wild beast during the Harvest Hunt. It turned out to be a fortuitous turn of events for the traitors and gave them the opportunity to eliminate me and seize the throne, but they did not kill the king themselves.”
The questions continued, revisiting details of several of the events. The most prevalent question was why had the Assembly not heard of these occurrences sooner?
“The investigation was carried out quietly because we did not know who to trust,” Relam told them, feeling his face heat slightly. “Remember, at one stage everyone at the banquet that night was a suspect. Including many of the people in this room.”
After that, the questions began to thin out, mostly clarifying important points. Two hours after the meeting had started, Relam was feeling quite comfortable with how it had progressed.
Then, Lord Garenes spoke up.
“Unfortunately, we will not be able to fully examine these events in a single evening,” he observed, addressing the Assembly. “The hour is already growing late, and there is to be an ongoing investigation into the treachery at the Citadel. I am sure that updates will continue to follow?” he asked, glancing at Relam.
“Yes,” Relam replied. “The Assembly will be notified of progress whenever it is safe to do so. Whenever revealing such progress will not compromise the remainder of the investigation, that is.”
“I hope that excuse will not be employed too often,” a lord Relam did not recognize muttered.
“The most important thing is that every traitor involved with this plot be rounded up,” Relam said sternly, looking down at the offending noble. “All other objectives must necessarily fall behind that.”
“We will be updated, then,” Lord Garenes continued. “But there is another issue we must deal with tonight. The successor of King Orram.”
The Prince (Heirs of Legacy Book 1) Page 54