The World of Samar Box Set 3

by M. L. Hamilton

  “It’s not gibberish. You just aren’t comprehending it.”

  “Not comprehending!” Adison crossed around the table and leaned over his brother. “Not comprehending! You’re doing this deliberately, aren’t you? You’re showing me gibberish and expecting me to make something of it.”

  “No, Adison, I wouldn’t do that.”

  Adison straightened, pointing at him. “That’s it, isn’t it? This is your punishment for jailing Lyell Vito! This is how you get back at me!”

  “No, Adison. I’m trying. I really am trying, but you just can’t concentrate.”

  “Because no one does what I ask them to do in this bedamned kingdom!” Adison shouted, making Alasdair cringe. “Everything’s falling apart because no one listens!”

  “You’re the one who isn’t listening.”

  Adison went still. “What?”

  Alasdair huddled on the ground, the books held to his chest. “You’re not listening to anyone, Adison. Your people come for hearings and you won’t grant them. I tell you of problems in your kingdom and you dismiss me. Lyell Vito wanted to help you, but you had him jai…”

  Adison struck before he knew what he was going to do. He backhanded Alasdair across the face and sent him sprawling. Alasdair scrambled over the books and papers and quills, trying to right himself, but Adison stalked him.

  “Don’t you dare say such things to me! Do you want to join Lyell Vito, Alasdair? I can make those arrangements!”

  “No, Adison, please.” He clambered, trying to get away, his head bowed.

  “Do not be disloyal to me, brother!”

  “No, Adison.”

  “Do not tempt me!”

  “I swear I’m not.”

  “You have no idea the things I will do!”

  “Please, Adison.”

  “You wouldn’t be the first family member I’ve disposed of!”

  Alasdair went still. Adison caught himself. Lack of sleep and fury had made him say more than he’d intended. Slowly, Alasdair’s head lifted and he fixed his myopic eyes on Adison. Blood ran down his chin from his split lip.

  “What did you say?”

  “I won’t be made a fool of, Alasdair. Stop showing me gibberish and teach me to read.”

  “What did you do to Aiden?”

  Adison shook his head. “Don’t ask question you don’t want the answer to, brother.”

  “What did you do, Adison?” He reached for the table and hauled himself to his feet. “Where is our brother?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Alasdair narrowed his eyes, searching him. Adison was the first to drop his gaze this time. “So is that your plan? Eliminate me too, Adison? Have me disappear in the night?”

  “Don’t tempt me!” he said, moving closer to him.

  “Then do it. Go on. Eliminate me too!”

  Adison shook his head, his lips lifting in a slow smile. “No, Alasdair, that would be foolish. For all of your feebleness, you have a quick intellect and I need you still. No, with you I have another weapon.” He held his arms out and looked around the library. “How tragic would it be if a torch was dropped in here? How devastating?”

  Alasdair flinched and clutched the book tighter.

  Adison moved up to him, leaning into his face. Alasdair tried to shrink away, but he was blocked by the shelves of books. “You see, here’s what I know, brother dear. Every man has his price. Find it and you hold the key to that man. And let’s be honest, shall we? I’ve just found yours.”

  Alasdair met his gaze, his own terrified, then he looked away.

  * * *

  Everard took his duty as royal valet seriously. Alton Cerik had been a prince of a man, allowing Everard to dress him in the highest fashion. He didn’t care what he wore, but he had sense enough to leave such decisions to a man better able to handle it.

  Aiden had been a chore. He didn’t like being helped to dress and he disdained many of the fashions Everard brought to court, choosing loose fitting garments that were difficult to keep in any form of true style. Still, he was better than the current monarch.

  Adison Cerik was a pig.

  Everard glanced over his shoulder into the suite to make sure he was still alone. The dressing room was half the size of the main suite, but in here, Everard could attend to the clothes without someone always watching over his shoulder. Adison Cerik watched, loomed, followed him around, accusing him of trying to harm him. Certainly, if there had been a way to soak his clothes in poison, Everard would have done it, but he was a professional.

  Dragging the brush over the dusty silk of Adison’s doublet, he tried to remove as much of the food stains as he could. Why wouldn’t the man just eat with his mouth closed or even... shudder... tuck a napkin into his collar to protect his clothing?

  The stain was simply not coming off. Picking up the hanger, Everard walked behind the dressing screen and reached for the special cleaner he’d imported all the way from Zelan. It was so expensive, he kept it in a secret hiding spot, behind the cufflinks and watch fobs. If Adison knew he had such a wonderful formula, he’d be even sloppier with his food.

  Hanging the doublet on the hook behind the screen, he reached for a cleaning cloth and dabbed a little of the formula onto it, then he went to work on the spot. Not a moment later, the outer door opened and he heard Adison’s heavy footsteps as he threw himself into a chair. Now he would drink himself into a stupor and stumble about the room all night, unable to sleep. Everard could sneak out the secret panel in the back that led to his own chambers, but something stopped him from making that decision. Once he was drunk enough, Adison would just bellow for him to come help him undress. He got most violent when it took Everard even a moment to arrive.

  “What the hell are you doing in here?” Adison said loudly, startling the valet. He dropped the cloth and bent over to retrieve it, opening his mouth to answer.

  Before he could, another voice intruded. “Watch your tone, pretend King. I’ve ridden all day and night to get here.”

  Everard didn’t recognize the new voice, but he heard the tinkling of glass as one of them poured a drink.

  “Are you alone?”

  “Who knows? Everard!” shouted the King.

  Everard knew he should answer, but fear held his voice in check.

  “Everard!” Adison came to the door and threw it open wider, leaning inside. Everard held his breath, hiding behind the dressing screen. “Usually the damn valet’s in here, fussing like an old woman, but he’s gone tonight.” Adison slammed the door, but it caught on a robe and didn’t close all the way. “What the hell are you doing here? You’re supposed to be with Eldralin’s bastard.”

  “No, I’m supposed to be headed to Terra Antiguo.”

  “Why?”

  “Eldralin found Duard’s homestead.”

  Silence, then more tinkling of glass. Everard strained to hear, his knees shaking, his hands damp with perspiration.

  “Did he find the slaves?”

  “Not at first. Duard put him up for the night, then he disappeared.”

  “Duard disappeared?”

  “Yes. That bastard’s gonna wish he was dead when I find him.”

  “How did Eldralin find the homestead?”

  “Apparently that Nazarien wife of his has been teaching him some tricks. He’s not a bad tracker.”

  “Wait. You said not at first. Then Eldralin did find the slaves?”

  “Yes.”

  “My brother?”

  Everard held his breath.

  “Halish, was my brother with the slaves?”

  “No.”

  Everard heard the chair give under someone’s weight. He wanted to see the other man, but he was afraid to move. If Adison discovered him now, he’d be in trouble.

  “Then he’s dead.” The hope in Adison’s voice was unmistakable.

  “Not necessarily. Do you remember the very important Nazarien I mentioned?”

  “Amerock.”

  “Amaroq, yes. He
found the homestead as well. He’s the one who figured out where the slaves were being held.”

  “And?”

  “He got one of the slavers, Elvert, to tell him what happened to your brother.” Halish gave a laugh. “Didn’t know he had it in him. He was going to bash Elvert’s brains out, but Eldralin stopped him.”

  The chair creaked. “Halish, where did he say my brother was?”

  “He went into the river.”

  “The Ethicon?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then he probably drowned. I mean, he was malnourished, exhausted, he couldn’t have swum in that strong a current for long.”

  “I also told you about Amaroq’s sister.”

  “Yes?”

  “She went into the river with him. She’s as skilled as a Nazarien warrior. They might have made it out. And she’ll know where to get help.”

  “Where?”

  “Tirsbor. It would be the closest location.” The glass clinked and Halish’s voice drew closer. “If Aiden Cerik makes it to Tirsbor, everything unravels.”

  “He won’t. He can’t.”

  “I have to go after Duard. He’s a loose end and if he talks, we’re finished, but I also have to send word to Terra Antiguo. I seem to remember that Talar Eldralin and your father set up an avian message system. It went between Chernow, Tirsbor, Terra Antiguo and here.”

  “Right. We use it to order supplies now.”

  “I need to send a message through it.”

  There was a pause. Everard permitted himself a breath. He couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Adison and Halish had plotted against Aiden. All of this had been planned and Dorland now suffered under these men. Part of Everard wished he’d never heard. If Adison found out he’d eavesdropped, he’d have him jailed or worse.

  “The birds can’t fly at night, Halish. We’ll have to send the message tomorrow morning.”

  “That works. I need some lead time anyway, and a night to rest. In the morning, as soon as we can, we’ll send to Terra Antiguo, then I’m off to track Duard.”

  “Good, good.” The glass tinkled crazily. “That’s good.”

  “Why are you shaking?”

  “I’m not.”

  “You wanted this. This was your plan.”

  “Duard promised me Aiden would die. That’s what I wanted, but he screwed up.”

  “He’s not the only one,” came Halish’s low, threatening tone. “If your brother’s alive and he makes it to Tirsbor, or if I don’t catch Duard, know that I will return here, Adison. I’m not going down with you.”

  “He doesn’t know who plotted against him, Halish. There’s no way he knows.”

  “You’d better hope that’s true, pretend King, because if not, I will come for you.” His voice trailed away.

  Adison didn’t respond, but Everard thought he, himself, might have a heart attack and die right here among all the finest silks in the land.

  * * *

  Alasdair touched his swollen lip, then picked up another book that Adison had cast onto the floor. He carried it to the table and settled it there. Glancing up, he saw Carona standing in the entrance. She swept into the room, her skirts swirling about her legs.

  “Did he do that to you?” she demanded, seeing his injuries.

  Alasdair touched it with his tongue, then dropped his eyes, straightening the books. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Why? Why did he strike you?”

  “He thinks I’m giving him gibberish to read.”

  Carona paused on the other side of the table, offering him a half-smile. “Are you?”

  “No, he’s just thick.”

  They both laughed, then Carona sobered. “Don’t provoke him, Alasdair. He’s not well.”

  “I know that, but who can say what provokes him anymore?” He fingered the lettering on a spine. He wasn’t sure he should tell Carona what he suspected. After Lyell Vito had been jailed, neither one of them were sure when they’d be next. And Adison wouldn’t let them check on the First Advisor. They didn’t even know if he was still alive.

  Taking a seat at the table, Alasdair clasped his hands. “I think Adison did something to Aiden.”

  “What?”

  “He made a comment about me not being the first family member he’s disposed of.”

  She sank into the chair across from him, her shoulders slumping. “Dear lord, Alasdair, you don’t believe that, do you?”

  “I don’t know what to believe.”

  Suddenly, the door creaked open and Everard poked his head inside. Alasdair frowned. In all the years Everard had been the royal valet, Alasdair never remembered him coming into the library.

  “Your Majesty, there you are,” he said, coming forward and dropping to one knee before Carona. “I’ve been searching all over for you.”

  “I’m not interested in picking out clothes for tomorrow, Everard. Alasdair and I have a lot to discuss.”

  Everard shot a glance at Alasdair. “I’m not here for clothes,” he whispered, shaking his head. “I overheard...I heard...terrible things.”

  Their attention focused on him. Carona leaned closer to where he knelt at her feet. “Where? What things, Everard?”

  “I was brushing His Majesty’s purple doublet, the one with the silver buttons, when he entered the room. At first I thought he was talking to me, but I was behind the dressing screen, so he didn’t see me.”

  “Who was he talking to?” asked Alasdair, adjusting his glasses.

  “A man named Halish.”

  Alasdair went still. “Halish is the Nazarien Adison brought to council the night they planned to go after the slavers.”

  “I didn’t see him, I can’t tell you if he’s Nazarien, but I heard him. He was very threatening.”

  “Go on,” urged Carona.

  “They were talking about His Majesty Lord Kalas and the fact that this Halish was traveling with him, but he’d been sent to Terra Antiguo. He came here instead.”

  Alasdair leaned forward. “Why? What did he say exactly, Everard?”

  “If he finds out I told you, he’ll kill me.”

  “He won’t find out.”

  “I wouldn’t tell you, but...things are so bad now. Adison’s ruining the kingdom.”

  Carona reached out and took his clasped hands. “If you know something, you are honor bound to tell us. You pledged your services to the crown of Dorland, which means you pledged yourself to the people and their welfare.”

  “Halish scares me. He’s a threatening man. I didn’t think I was going to get out of that room, but finally, Halish demanded Adison get him something to eat. He demanded the King wait on him. He has no respect. When they left to go to the kitchens, I ran to find you.”

  “I’m glad you did, Everard. That was very brave of you, but what did Adison say about Aiden?”

  “Kalas Eldralin found the homestead of a man named Duard. He was holding slaves.”

  Alasdair’s head lifted. Damn it, he knew it. He’d been sure about it for months.

  “They found the slaves.”

  Carona shook her head in confusion. “I don’t understand what this has to do with…”

  “He thought Aiden was one of them.”

  Carona didn’t move.

  Alasdair buried his head in his hands.

  “They thought Aiden was a slave?” Carona asked.

  Everard’s mouth moved, but nothing came out. He wrung his hands. “Adison had something to do with Aiden’s disappearance. I’m sure of it.”

  Alasdair nodded. “I knew it.”

  “Was Aiden with the slaves?”

  “No, he escaped, went into the river.”

  “The Ethicon? That river’s treacherous!” said Carona, turning to Alasdair.

  “Aiden’s a strong swimmer.”

  “He apparently had a Nazarien woman with him who’s also skilled,” added Everard.

  “What else did they say?” demanded Alasdair.

  Everard shifted uneasily. “Halish sai
d that if Aiden made it out of the river, this Nazarien woman would take him to get help in Tirsbor.”

  Alasdair thought about that for a moment.

  “What are we going to do, Alasdair?” pleaded Carona.

  “Let me think.” Alasdair pressed his fingers to his temples.

  “Halish is going to send an avian messenger to Terra Antiguo tomorrow like Kalas requested, and then he’s going after this Duard to keep him quiet.”

  “Why tomorrow?”

  Everard gave a snort of derision. “Adison doesn’t think birds can fly at night.”

  “Alasdair, we have to do something!” urged Carona.

  “Let me think. Give me a moment.”

  “Why don’t we send our own message?” suggested Carona.

  “Send our own message?”

  “To Tirsbor. Let them know what’s going on here in Dorland. If Aiden goes there, he’ll get it and be warned.”

  Alasdair pointed a finger at her. “Yes, and we can send ours tonight.”

  Carona hesitated. “If we do this and we’re caught, Adison will try us for treason.”

  “And if we don’t do this, we’re still committing treason, Carona. How can we turn a blind eye to Adison’s tyranny.” He gave a violent shake of his head. “He sold my brother to slavers. What other horrors is he capable of?”

  “You’re right. It just scares me.”

  “But you decided to leave your room. When you did that, you chose to be brave for your people over protecting your own health. I need you to stay strong, Carona.”

  She thought for a moment, then lifted her chin. “Let’s send that message.”

  * * *

  “Wake up!”

  Alasdair bolted awake, his heart climbing into his throat. “Adison?”

  “Get up!”

  Running a hand through his blond hair, he squinted at his brother. Adison appeared to be two people. “What time is it?”

  “Just dawn. Get up! I need you to do something for me.”

  Alasdair realized there was another person in the room. Reaching for his glasses, he put them on, blinking away the sleep fogginess. “Who’s this?”

  “It doesn’t matter. Get up, Alasdair, or I will haul you out of bed by the hair.”

  Alasdair reached for the bed covers. “What do you want, Adison?”