The Prince found the outer door to Evelyn’s chambers unlocked. Steeling his resolve, he opened the door partway, peered into the room, and entered. Adam’s heart lurched when he found the room empty. He made it halfway across the living chamber on his way to Evelyn’s bedroom when three soldiers stepped out from behind the curtains and an antechamber. Adam stopped and raised his knife. Gordon appeared from the bedroom gripping his wife’s hand.
“Hello, brother,” Gordon greeted.
“Adam!” Evelyn cried.
“Release my sister at once!”
“I think not. Where is Garran?”
“He is dealing with Gregor and has likely killed him by now. You are done here. The palace will soon fall, and we will destroy The Guild for good.”
“I think not. The inner walls will keep out your barbarians long enough for reinforcements to arrive. I will give you one chance to surrender and accept the very gracious offer I made you and my dear wife.”
“Never!”
“She has already lost so much. Do not be the reason she loses the last of her family.”
Adam glanced at the three soldiers and met Evelyn’s eyes. Evelyn stood proud and gently shook her head.
“No,” Adam declared. “The Altena line does not yield to tyranny, even at the cost of our lives. I will give you one chance to surrender before I give you to the headsman along with your conspirators.”
Gordon smiled at his wife. “Well, you cannot say I did not try to keep my pledge.” He looked to his guards. “Kill him.”
“No!” Evelyn shouted.
The three men rushed forward as one. Adam fell into himself and reached for his power.
“Stop!”
Two of the soldiers froze mid-step, their eyes wide with fear when their bodies refused to obey their commands. The third man stumbled, regained control, and continued his attack. Adam ducked the blow and dodged away. The soldier followed, swinging his weapon in hopes of quickly ending the fight.
Even with his recent training, Adam knew he lacked the soldier’s skill with the blade, but he was not defenseless. He wielded the knife as if it were an extension of his body and wove it into his monastic meditation exercises. His blade soared and swooped, deflecting the soldier’s swings and thrusts.
The Prince’s odd fighting style baffled the soldier, but he knew a purely defensive routine, no matter how well executed, would eventually fail. It took only a single missed parry to end the battle, so he stepped up his attack.
Adam felt himself tiring. He lacked the stamina of a true swordsman, but he possessed other talents, although he loathed using them in such a brutal manner. With no other choice, he called upon his god-touched power once again. He knew the soldier’s resolve was too great to overcome, particularly now that he was focused on combat, but oftentimes subtly could prevail where brute force failed.
Adam held Garran’s knife in his offhand and sheathed it in magic that would cause the man not to notice it. The small blade flashed forward inside of the man’s guard. The soldier’s mind vaguely registered the plunging stroke, but he dismissed it as the threat it truly was. The knife struck him in the chest, piercing the leather and mail armor, and sundering the beating heart beneath it.
Adam quelled his rising nausea and pointed the bloody blade at Gordon. “It is over.”
“It is not over!” Gordon seethed. He wrapped his arm around Evelyn’s throat and pressed a dagger against her swollen belly. “You have accomplished nothing! My allies will come and destroy you and your pathetic army.”
“They will not arrive in time. We have conspirators throughout the city and even within the palace. They will open the gates to our forces and bar them against yours. I have another army approaching as we speak. Even if The Guild could manage to raise enough swords to fight the Hillmen, they will find the city denied them and will be crushed against the walls by the mercenaries you invited into the country. You offered to spare my life, and I will make the same offer this one time. Let my sister go and run. Run as far and as fast as you can.”
Gordon shook his head, the last of his resolve flagging. “No, this cannot be.” He turned his head toward the sounds of battle outside the window in the courtyard below. The barbarians were on the palace grounds. “Promise me that you will not hunt me down, that no agent will seek me out for vengeance.”
Adam nodded. “I swear it.”
“I swear on the souls of my father and mother, neither I nor any agent in my name shall seek vengeance upon you,” Evelyn promised.
Gordon glanced around the room before pushing Evelyn toward Adam. “I never asked for any of this,” he said as he sidled around the room to reach the door.
“Gordon,” Evelyn said, “leave the crown. It was never yours to wear.”
Gordon tore the gold crown from his head and tossed it onto the sofa before sprinting through the door and down the hall. Evelyn wrapped her brother in a tight embrace.
“I never thought I would see you again!”
“I am sorry it took me so long and you had to bear all of this alone, but I am here now. Let us leave this place. We have friends in the city who will shelter us until our forces seize the palace and end The Guild’s threat.”
Evelyn pushed away from Adam and scooped up the discarded crown. “No. There has been too much blood spilled for this crown, and it stops now.” She handed the crown to Adam. “Put this on. Gordon has some proper clothes here you can wear.”
“What are you doing?”
“I am doing what a good queen does. I am taking control of my kingdom and ending this violence.” She looked to the two men frozen in place. “How long will they remain like this?”
“Not long.”
The furious queen strode up to the nearest man and delivered a powerful slap. “You now stand at a crossroads, soldier. Will you obey your rightful King and Queen, or will you maintain your treasonous loyalty to murderous usurpers? Think carefully as your life depends on your answer.”
The soldier felt the hold on his body release with Her Majesty’s rebuke. He glanced from his fellow and to the last of the Altena line. “What would you command of me, Highness?”
“Rally the guard force. Inform them that the true rulers of Anatolia are once again in power, and order them to stand down and take no offensive action against the invaders. Any man who disobeys my order will be put to death for treason.”
The man ducked his head and elbowed his companion into motion. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
Adam watched the two men scurry from the room. “Evelyn, you know I cannot take the throne.”
“Of course I do, but most of them do not or will likely have forgotten that small detail long enough for us to restore order. The people need to hear from their King, and for this one day, that is you. Now, go get dressed so you can address your people and stop these Hillmen before they burn the entire city to ground around us.”
Evelyn strode over to a wardrobe and began pulling out articles of clothing. Adam quickly donned the regal garb until Evelyn declared him suitably dressed for the task.
Adam stopped as he laced up his velvet doublet. “Oh my god Garran!”
“What?”
“I forgot about Garran! He lured Gregor away so I could find you.”
“You said he had killed Gregor.”
“I was bluffing. I have no idea what happened. I have to find him.”
“We do not have time. He could be anywhere.”
Adam scooped up the knife he had dropped onto the floor. “I can find him.” He rested the blade on the palm of his hand and called upon his magic. The knife swiveled until the tip pointed in the direct they needed to go. “He’s this way.”
Adam led Evelyn by the hand down the halls back in the direction where he and Garran had separated. Adam slowed as they neared the throne room and the knife ceased its wavering. He rushed into the room and held his sleeve over his nose and mouth to block the acrid stench of burnt flesh.
He strode past what he ass
umed was Gregor’s charred remains with barely a glance and rushed to where Garran lay on the dais steps in an expanding pool of blood with an empty bottle clutched in his right hand. Adam felt for a pulse and feared he was too late when he touched Garran’s pallid, clammy skin, but then he felt the weak thrum of a single heartbeat beneath his fingers.
Adam reached deep and pulled upon every bit of power he possessed and sent it flowing into Garran’s body. Garran’s life force was so far gone that it felt as if Adam were trying to blow out a candle from across the room, but he continued to pour healing energy into his fallen friend until he had nothing left to give.
Garran moaned, opened his eyes to slits, and swung the bottle at Adam’s head. “Die, you bastard!”
Adam grabbed Garran’s wrist and held it firm. “Garran, it’s me, Adam!”
“I know it’s you! You just screwed me out of what was likely the only chance I would ever have of dying with dignity. Now I’m probably going to die like a filthy wretch, mad with fever from syphilis and lying in my own filth. Nice going, Pickle Tits.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I’m pretty sure you have soiled yourself, so there wasn’t quite as much dignity in this death as you might think,” Adam said. “And you might not have syphilis, but I’m sure you are rife with a host other diseases, sexual and otherwise.”
Garran took Adam’s hand and squeezed it. “You always know what to say to make me feel better. Oh, Adam, you should have seen it. I was there, on the other side.”
“Heaven you mean?”
“It had to be. I had a prick like a pike and an opium pipe with a bowl the size of a goddam water tower. It was glorious…and you took that away from me, you sonofabitch!” Garran tried to strike him once more.
Adam restrained him and tried to keep him calm. “I’m sorry I saved your life.”
Garran coughed and swooned as he tried to sit up. “You should be.” Garran beckoned Adam to come closer. “Help me sit up.”
“You need to lay back and rest.”
“I need to tell you something. Come close. I made a promise, and I have to keep it,” he whispered hoarsely.
Adam cradled Garran’s head in his arm and helped him sit up as he knelt beside him. “What promise?”
“Come close. Look me in the eyes.”
Adam leaned closer, barely able to hear Garran’s words. “What is it?”
“That’s two.”
“Wha—”
Garran’s fist flashed and punched Adam in the crotch. Adam dropped Garran’s head to bounce on the dais as he clutched his groin, toppled onto his side, and moaned.
Evelyn stood over her brother. “This is the man who defeated our kingdom’s two greatest agents, toppled The Guild, rescued us both, and restored our rule? Our nation has truly fallen on hard times.”
Evelyn shrieked and danced away when she glanced down and found Garran’s fingers scrabbling at the edges of her dress in an effort to peek beneath it. “Ew, you retched little man!”
EPILOGUE
Adam and Evelyn took control of the soldiers defending the palace. Without anyone of rank to contradict the Queen and Remiel’s heir, most of them readily accepted their return to the throne without question. The few who balked fell in line as the ranks of Altena loyalists swelled.
The Hillmen besieging the palace walls ceased their assault when Adam appeared and led them into the city to quell fighting between his allies and The Guild’s security forces. Once he was able to regain control of the constabulary and turn their men to his side, he was able to crush nearly all resistance by morning.
The Guild’s private army reached the capital only to find the gates barred against them and a sizable force ready to defend the walls. With an unknown army less than a day away approaching from the east, the hired swords put down their weapons and disbanded without a fight.
Justice was swift and severe. Trials were held enmasse, and convictions were carried out within the week. By month’s end, nine former members of parliament and a dozen senior Guild members swung from freshly erected gallows. Dozens more from each of the traitorous camps were sentenced to prison labor camps proportionate to their involvement.
Evelyn sat tall and looked regal upon the throne, a feat far easier to accomplish now that her son was born and no longer trying to kick his way out of the womb. Aniston sat to her right as the Queen’s consort and father to the future King. Adam stood to her left as her senior advisor.
Noblemen and courtiers filled the audience hall, not all of them pleased with the day’s spectacle, but any dissent or ill words were tightly suppressed or spoken only away from the Queen’s ear.
Evelyn stood to address her audience. “Laird Melkior, Clan Lairds, thank you for your patience while my brother and I restored order to our house.”
Melkior nodded and smiled. “We’ve waited a couple hundred years for justice. A few more weeks seemed reasonable enough. I congratulate the young Highness for bearing her people a strapping young prince.”
“Thank you, Melkior. Although the resettlement and repatriation of your people is already underway, I would like to formally acknowledge your brave warriors for helping us remove the villainous scum who murdered my family and stole my birthright. I am also pleased to denounce the wrongs my forefathers committed to yours so long ago and hope that by returning your lands and rights I am able to make amends between our people.”
“If we all bore the shame committed by our fathers and grandfathers, then wouldn’t none of the children be able to show their faces in public with dignity.”
Evelyn looked out over the crowd and called out, “Garran Holt?” She turned her head to face Aniston. “Has he still not appeared?”
Aniston shrugged and shook his head. “No one has seen or heard from him since he escaped hospice two weeks ago.”
Evelyn sighed and faced the court once more. “I had hoped to bestow our kingdom’s highest honor to Agent Garran Holt for his amazing act of bravery and heroism in person, but it appears that I must issue it in absentia. Please enjoy the feast and festivities in the plaza. This court is adjourned.”
The Queen returned to her seat. “Have we any word of Joshua Roux, Sabinus Cole, or Roger Seaver’s whereabouts?”
Aniston frowned as the names brought a bad taste to his mouth. “No, and with more than half of the diplomatic corps purged of Gregor’s cronies, it is going to be a challenge to bring them to justice. We believe a private ship sailing under an Opatian flag that made a brief stop in Artemisia belonged to one of them and likely had the three on board, but it set sail for parts unknown before our agents could reach it.”
“Slippery bastards,” Evelyn cursed. “It was bad enough that I allowed Gordon to escape, but our victory will forever feel hollow until Joshua Roux and his remaining architects’ heads adorn my wall. Where in the world is Garran Holt?
***
Gordon rode his mount through the tight streets of Wildemont, a bustling town in Arnao’s northern reaches. While he could never return to his estates back in Anatolia, he was not without means. Fortunately, he had taken Gregor’s advice and created several caches and bank accounts across the land using pseudonyms in the event that exactly this should happen.
Although such preparations had not done Gregor any good, it allowed him to travel and live a relatively comfortable life. He missed having servants and people bowing and scraping, but he began to appreciate the benefits of a simpler life, not having to look over his shoulder for a plunging knife being one of them.
He located the finest inn in the town and stabled his horse. Hungry and road weary, Gordon sat at a table and grabbed the attention of the nearest serving woman. A buxom young woman approached, her tight bodice barely able to contain her ample bosom, her frilly skirt displaying her smooth, shapely legs well past the knee.
“What can I get you, handsome?”
“Your best wine and whatever is on the dinner menu, please.”
“You look tired. Have you traveled
far?”
“Much farther than the measure of mere miles, I assure you.”
The waitress sat down in the chair opposite Gordon and rested her chin on the back of her hands. “You’re different than most men who come through here.”
Gordon smiled, appreciating the attention. “How is that?”
“I don’t know. You look and talk like a man used to being obeyed. I find that kind of confidence very attractive.”
“Is that right?”
“Mhmm. What’s your name?”
Gordon paused. “Jeffery, and you are?”
“Mathilda, but my friends call my Mattie.” Mattie drew an invisible circle on the table with her finger. “Do you plan on staying the night?”
“It was my intention, yes.”
“Maybe after your meal I can show you to your room—personally.”
Gordon smiled and gazed at her longingly. “I suddenly find myself with an appetite for something off the dinner menu.”
Mattie stood and held out her hand. “I will be happy to take your order.”
Gordon let the girl lead him upstairs to one of the rooms. She playfully shoved him inside before turning and locking the door. She stumbled into Gordon’s arms where he began anxiously kissing her neck. Mattie giggled, broke away from his grasp, and began seductively tugging at the laces of her bodice.
Filled with ardor, Gordon lunged forward and began tearing at the strings securing his prize. She was young enough for their tryst to be scandalous but old enough not be indecent, which was exactly how he liked them. His questing hands stopped and he stepped back, eyes wide and questioning when a grapefruit tumbled out of her corset, thumped against the floor, and rolled beneath the bed.
“What…?” Gordon muttered as he looked from the girl’s face to the darkened space beneath the bed. His head whipped to the side when the door of the wardrobe swung open and a man appeared. “Holt!” Gordon cried as he stumbled backward and fumbled for the sword belted at his waist.
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