Allegiance

by Cayla Kluver

  Very subtly, Cannan motioned with his head for Halias to take me out of the office. Without a word, the Elite Guard grabbed my upper arm and tugged me through the door, and I let him guide me up the stairs and to my quarters. As soon as he left me, I hurried into my room to sit on the edge of the bed, trying to make sense of everything that had happened.

  I was petrified by the side of my husband I had just seen. What was to prevent a similar explosion the next time I saw him? He had not hurt me in Cannan’s office, but if we were alone? What then might he do? Despite my weariness, I could not lie down, too agitated and afraid to attempt to sleep.

  And what of Narian? How had the fire at Koranis’s estate erupted? Had Narian conjured it? As ludicrous as the idea seemed, it was the only explanation I could fathom. Pushing my sluggish brain to work harder, I began to weave together an alternative. Perhaps he had used the explosive powder, marked a line of it on the ground before we’d arrived, in anticipation of a need to make an escape. But this was almost more implausible. Who anticipated needing to make a wall of flame? If anyone, it would be Narian, but that didn’t solve the question of how he had caused it to light at the correct moment, and so my theory floundered. Then I recalled my first conversation with London concerning Cokyri, in which he had said our soldiers believed the Overlord could kill people with a wave of his hand. Was it possible that Narian had similar powers? If so, why hadn’t he ever told me?

  My head swam with all the information I was trying to process. Narian was saving my sister’s life with every order he obeyed; his failure to follow his master’s commands would result in her death, but not prevent an assault on Hytanica. He had implied that the Overlord would attack with or without his aid, and that the fighting would be brutal. He had appeared to believe that it would be best for us if he led the offensive against our kingdom; that he could best protect the Hytanican people by becoming our conqueror. In some twisted way, it made sense—that is, if we were willing to concede defeat before the war had even begun.

  Nothing had gone right this evening. Destari had betrayed me; Narian had told me to forget all that had happened between us and to live as though we’d never met; and the man to whom I was married was ready to throttle me.

  I heard the parlor door open, and the subsequent slam left no question that it was Steldor who had entered. I hardly dared breathe, afraid he might come after me or call for me, but he did neither. Instead, the next sound I heard was the aggressive closing of his bedroom door. I exhaled, finally allowing myself to sink into my pillows.

  The weather the next day was bent on contradicting my mood. Bright sunlight filtered through my bedroom window, and I could hear birds chirping in the most idyllic manner from just beyond the pane. Following on the heels of the night’s events, such cheeriness was grating. I was still tired as I dragged myself from bed to dress with Sadhienne’s assistance, and my mind was sluggish, not yet having digested everything.

  What I wanted most was for all of this to be over. I wanted Miranna and London back, along with the peace that had existed but two scarce years ago. I wanted to be unmarried and thereby rid of Steldor’s jealousy and anger, and I wanted Narian to… There the thought halted, for I knew not how to finish it. To make things simple, I could wish that I had never met him, as seemed to be his desire. But when I thought of him, I could not wish that, could not wish anything but that we could be together in the absence of all the troubles that had descended on us like a plague. I wanted to run from this devastating life, but I had no choice but to endure, with the meager hope that somehow all would turn out well.

  I went into the parlor and sat on the sofa, waving Sahdienne on her way. The absolute quiet from behind Steldor’s closed bedroom door meant that he had already departed, a situation with which I was pleased. I sank onto the sofa, not wanting to leave and worried about what this day might bring, only to be disturbed by a knock on the door.

  “Come in,” I called, thinking Sahdienne had forgotten something. I rose stiffly, for my muscles ached from yesterday’s activity, and sleep had provided no real respite.

  I was taken aback when Cannan crossed the threshold. He gave me a scant bow, then his eyes flicked around the parlor.

  “Is Steldor in his room?” he inquired.

  “I thought he’d left, although I suppose he could be. If he’s here, he hasn’t made a sound.”

  I could not meet Cannan’s eyes, certain that I would find condemnation there. A few months ago, when he had first learned of my relationship with Narian, I had been besieged by worry as to what his opinion of me might be; now I didn’t think I could bear it.

  Cannan went to his son’s door and loudly rapped his knuckles against it three times.

  “Steldor!” he called, to no reply.

  “I assumed he’d be in the Throne Room, or with you.”

  The captain glanced at me, then opened the door and stepped inside to stop dead in his tracks.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked, suddenly frightened.

  Without acknowledging me, Cannan turned on his heel and marched back across the parlor.

  “Halias, Casimir!” he shouted, summoning the two guards who were posted in the corridor.

  The door swung open, and I read alarm on the faces of both men.

  “The window is open,” Cannan said, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes for an instant. “He’s gone.”

  “Signs of a struggle, Captain?” Casimir inquired. “Surely the Queen or the Palace Guards on patrol would have heard—”

  “There was no struggle,” Cannan replied wearily. “The room is in order except that some of his weapons are gone. He left of his own accord. What did he do after we talked in my office last night?”

  “He went directly to his quarters, sir,” Casimir replied, for he would have been with the King.

  “That puts him eight hours ahead of us, easily, if he’s left the city,” Halias calculated.

  “He’s beyond the city,” Cannan confirmed.

  Halias and Casimir exchanged a glance, their eyebrows rising as they wondered how their captain could have determined this.

  “Sir?” they asked in unison.

  “A horse was missing from the stable at my city estate this morning. I supposed a thief, but Steldor would have been smart enough not to take his own mount. Anyone would have recognized it. And he wouldn’t have taken a horse unless he intended to leave the city.”

  Cannan sidestepped his guards and marched out the door and down the corridor. Casimir followed, Halias unable to do likewise, for he was assigned to protect me. I wasted no time in pursuing the men, however, and my bodyguard did not object to my nosiness. I hurried down the hall, fighting guilt and worry. How angry had I made him? Was I the reason he had taken off, or had something else transpired last night?

  Cannan had already disappeared around the corner, heading for the Grand Staircase. I quickened my pace, but by the time I reached the landing, he was on the first floor, calling for Galen. The Sergeant at Arms emerged from his office just in time to see Cannan’s retreating back, and he and Casimir hastened after their superior officer. Cursing my inability to eavesdrop, I decided to wait for them to reappear from the captain’s office, in the hope that I would be able to catch snippets of conversation. I sat down on the top step in an undignified fashion to do just that, Halias taking up position behind me with his back against the wall.

  What I eventually gathered was this: Steldor, a hooded cloak pulled low, had left the city unrecognized, riding one of the captain’s horses and presenting a pass with the King’s seal, something he naturally had no difficulty obtaining. This gave him a considerable advantage. Cannan had decided that Galen and Casimir would head a discreet search party into the mountains, with Galen leading the way to all the places he and Steldor had frequented in their youth. The sergeant had been insistent that his best friend would not have gone to any such locations, since he did not want to be found, but Cannan was resolute that this was the most lo
gical way to begin.

  After the search party had gone on its way, I went to my drawing room, where I would be able to hear the return of the men from down the hall. Cannan came after me just long enough to make certain that I would follow my usual daily schedule; he did not trust that our city was free of Cokyrian spies, and he feared that if the information broke that the King was unaccounted for, the search would turn into a race. He also reminded Halias that he was to stay with me, able to see as easily as could I that the Elite Guard craved involvement in the effort.

  Hours passed without word, and I began to feel desperate for news of any sort. I opted to walk past the Throne Room under the guise of needing to retrieve a shawl from my bedroom, hoping I would encounter my father-in-law. I meandered through the entrance hall, finding it strangely quiet, then climbed the stairs at an impossibly slow pace. I even pretended at the top that my shoe had slipped off my heel, and I spent a good minute readjusting it, hoping something of importance would take place while I lingered.

  Halias, who hadn’t yet said a word, finally broke his silence, his tone dry. “I don’t think your shawl will be found here, Your Highness.”

  I sighed and turned away from him with a frown, for he had surmised what my true intentions were. Giving up the pretense, I leaned upon the railing. The hour was growing late, and I wondered if the search party would return at all this day. But surely someone would come to update Cannan, even if some of the troops stayed in the mountains.

  At that moment, a soldier stumbled through the double front doors of the palace and limped into the Grand Entry, face smeared with dirt and sweat, calling for the captain. The Palace Guards at the entrance maintained their posts, while I went rigid. Halias came to my side, all of us waiting for Cannan.

  “Report,” the captain ordered as he strode through the antechamber, taking in the battered soldier, who, despite his obvious exhaustion, came to attention.

  “Sir, the Cokyrians are at the river. We need reinforcements.”

  The Palace Guards broke into hushed mutterings at these words, and my stomach gave a sickening lurch. The war had begun anew. I felt as though a death march had commenced, with the only questions being who would die and when.

  “They will be sent,” Cannan curtly responded, but then he placed a steadying hand on the man’s shoulder. “Stand at ease and tell me how things were when you left.”

  “We did not expect their attack, sir,” the soldier admitted without shame. “We were disorganized—” the slight scowl on the captain’s face made it clear that he had not left things that way “—and the Cokyrians could probably have overcome us, had they employed their full might. But at the time I rode for reinforcements, our troops were beating them back. In truth, I think they were testing us, sir. Their second attack will be far worse.”

  “Doubtless. Was there any sign of the boy?”

  “No, sir.”

  There was some relief for the captain in this statement, as I knew he and his men had yet to explain the fiery barrier that had impeded them in their attempt to capture Narian.

  “Then you are dismissed. Report to the infirmary and have your leg examined.”

  “But sir, I should return—”

  “You have your orders,” Cannan said sharply, the strain of the day at last beginning to show. “You’ll be of no use fatigued and injured.” A beat passed, and he regained his unflappable demeanor. “I will send additional men. Go.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Noticeably cowed, the soldier hobbled through the front doors once more, on his way to the military base.

  The men Cannan sent to offer aid at the river proved to be unnecessary, for the soldier who had brought news of Cokyri’s assault had been correct about the enemy’s intent—they were testing us, toying with us, their attack halfhearted. The servants and guards even jested that our troops alternated between fighting and napping on the battlefield. Through it all, I had to wonder if it were Narian who was trying to belittle and badger us with this technique.

  There was still no news of Steldor, and it was becoming harder to keep up the appearance that nothing was wrong. When Galen returned early the next afternoon without the King and without any idea of where he might be, it began to penetrate my brain that Steldor was truly missing. Everyone had assumed he would be back by now, and despite the discreet search parties Cannan had dispatched in every direction, no evidence of his whereabouts had been discovered. It was possible, Galen pointed out, that Steldor, a trained military man, had covered his tracks and would not be found until he chose to be. Cannan, however, instructed his men to search again and again, arguing that every person, no matter how well trained, leaves a trail. I could tell the captain hadn’t so much as closed his eyes since his son’s disappearance.

  Late that afternoon, I paced, alone in my parlor, feeling a surprising desire to have my husband join me. Despite our disagreements, I desperately wanted him to walk through the door and be safe. When I could pace no more, I visited the Royal Chapel, the first time I had done so since Miranna’s abduction. Although it was painful for me to cross the threshold, I sought the peace I had always found within its walls. The altar had been repaired, and no sign of the tragedy remained, other than the fact that a new priest now served our family. I sat in one of the pews, letting my fears wash over me as I thought of Steldor alone somewhere for a second dark night, possibly injured, certainly in danger. Come home, I breathed, closing my eyes. Be all right. Please be all right and come home.

  When I left the chapel to return to my quarters, Destari waited for me in the corridor, having returned to duty as my bodyguard.

  “Your Highness,” he greeted me, not referring to me by name, which suited me perfectly. “The captain feels I am sufficiently healed to return to your service. I will seek reassignment, however, if this is not to your liking.”

  “I have never questioned your ability as a bodyguard,” I coolly responded, relieved that his wound had not been more serious. “It is your suitability as a friend that I question.”

  He grimaced, and I stalked past him, my resentment over his deceit on the night I had met with Narian warring with my guilt over how he’d been injured. Could I truly fault him for what he’d done? I knew that the men were right to consider Narian our adversary. Would I begrudge Destari his deed had that adversary been the High Priestess or the Overlord? No. But yet I could not pardon him, simply because to do so would require me to abandon hope that Narian was still the young man who had promised he would never hurt me. And that I was not ready to do.

  I rose early the next morning and went to the first floor, my jittery mind and nerves having kept me from a restful slumber. Needing to know if there had been word, I knocked on the captain’s office door.

  “Enter,” he called.

  The office had been restored since it had been subjected to Steldor’s wrath, the glass weapons cases replaced, the bookshelves put back in order. Another chair had even been brought in to take the place of the one Steldor had smashed. The captain, anchored behind his desk, gestured for me to sit.

  “Nothing,” he said, rubbing his unusually shadowed jaw, and I took my place on the wooden chair he was indicating.

  “Will we find him?” I asked tentatively, for I did not want to hear the answer unless it was the one I craved.

  “Yes.”

  “You’re certain?”

  “I have to be.”

  I didn’t know what to make of this statement, so I waited in discomfited silence. Just as I began to wonder if that had been my cue to depart, Cannan elaborated, leaning back in his chair.

  “Growing up, Steldor was, at times, difficult, and he took off like this on more than one occasion. He knows the land and is a well-trained soldier, so from that standpoint, I don’t worry about him. What he fails to see is the difference between being a boy who needs to get away and being the King of Hytanica. There is greater risk to him, and to us, because of his status. If no enemy discovers him, we’ll either find hi
m or he’ll return of his own accord. If he is or has already been discovered…” Cannan shrugged in what would have seemed a callous gesture had I not been aware of the sleep he had been losing. “Well, then I cannot say.” He paused before finishing. “It is easier to keep going if I believe the former.”

  A commotion from the entryway thwarted my reply, and Cannan came to his feet. Our eyes met, then he walked through the guardroom to investigate while I took the liberty of following him. Galen and several others were gathered, all struggling for breath, as though they had been riding hard.

  “What is it?” Cannan demanded, striding toward the Sergeant at Arms.

  “It’s a diversion, sir,” Galen panted, wiping sweat from his brow, desolate and worn-out.

  “What is?”

  The captain waited for the sergeant to recover, running a hand through his hair in an uncharacteristic gesture.

  “At the bridge, where the Cokyrians are attacking. They’re just diverting our attention. We followed the river high up into the mountains searching for Steldor and stumbled upon Cokyrian troops crossing into our lands. They’re gathering forces, preparing to descend the mountain and assault us under cover of the forest.”

  “Send for my battalion commanders. We need to put up defenses to the north.” Glancing around at the exhausted soldiers, Cannan added, “And get your men some rest.”

  “Attention,” Galen called, drawing the weary soldiers upright. “Return to your quarters. You’ve got six hours.”

  Galen then stepped into the guardroom to instruct others under his authority to summon the battalion commanders. I stared at Cannan, knowing it was no longer such a remote possibility that our King might fall prey to the Cokyrians.

  The soldiers departed, some heading toward the barracks at the military base, some going to their rooms in the East Wing, a few following Galen’s specific instructions. When the hall had emptied, Cannan turned once more to his sergeant.