Allegiance

by Cayla Kluver

  “I don’t want to lose him,” she rasped, voice thick with emotion.

  “I know. But it is out of our hands.”

  We continued to sit quietly together, lost in our individual misery. My mind went to Steldor, for I did not want harm to befall him, either. But I knew he would sacrifice everything to protect those he loved, including me. The reality that Galen, Steldor and so many other young men, lives barely begun, might not see another day, sickened me. I shuddered, pushing such thoughts away, forcing myself to trust in Narian’s promise that he would restrain his soldiers.

  With the crumbling of portions of the walls, the war moved to the streets. Our indefatigable soldiers struggled to keep the Cokyrians from reaching the palace, and day and night I could hear shouts amid the clanking of swords and armor. The Hytanican people had begun to retreat to the churches, livery stables and schools that had been prepared as fortresses. Many had chosen to flee to the palace, the sturdiest and best-defended safe haven. Its thick walls and the determination of our men had thus far kept the Cokyrians from breaching it, though the crafty warriors of the mountains were also attempting to scale the forty-foot back wall that protected the garden. Blood had been spilled, and men had lost their lives within my precious retreat.

  Never had I seen so many people filling the halls of my home. It seemed half the city had squeezed inside and were crawling over each other, frantic for security, their numbers swelling daily. The noise was unbearable, parents straining to keep hold of their children, men calling for friends and relatives who had been lost in the confusion, babies crying and officers shouting commands, trying to reassure everyone and find order.

  I knew when Cannan stepped in, for suddenly Elite Guards were laboring much harder for organization, herding women and children into the Royal Ballroom and the King’s Dining Hall on the second floor, calling all capable, unarmed men to the Throne Room to be fitted with weapons from the armory and taking the injured and infirm to the Meeting Hall next to the office of the Royal Physician, where any and all healers had also been summoned.

  I made my way through the second-floor corridors, not really knowing where I was going, feeling more and more overwhelmed as I advanced. The palace was bursting at the seams, and there was so much need, so much despair. I struggled through the crush of people to stand at the top of the Grand Staircase, covering my ears to shut out the noise that made my head ache, trying to avoid being jostled about by those who had climbed up the stairs to make room for new additions. I couldn’t think; there was no sense beyond all this madness; there was no hope in anyone’s eyes.

  Hytanica would fall. Today, or tomorrow, or the next week, or however long we could stave them off, but eventually, inevitably, Hytanica would fall. What would happen to me, to the people I loved, to all those within the city and to those who swarmed like flies about me? At yells from the entrance hall, I looked to see guards using the butts of their swords to clear the doorway. I was certain the Cokyrians had broken through our final barricades until I focused my gaze and understood we were fighting off citizens we could no longer protect and for whom we had no room. In their panic, our own people had become an enemy. When at last the men had forced the door closed, dropping the wooden bar to lock it tight, cries were heard from the other side. No one answered, instead piling up furniture and anything else that could be found against the entrance.

  I pressed myself against the banister to make way for the scurrying, bustling civilians, feeling light-headed—I would have sunk to the floor, but space constraints wouldn’t allow it. The heat from hundreds of bodies packed together was sweltering.

  I moaned, though no one could hear me, wondering how I had gotten separated from Destari and if he were trying to locate me or had instead become involved in some other aspect of the crisis. Squeezing my eyes shut, I raised my hand to wipe perspiration from my forehead, but someone’s fingers twined with mine.

  I opened my eyes to see Steldor standing next to me, ready to lead me out of the crush of people. I stumbled after him, clinging to his hand, letting him clear a path down the steps to the first floor using his height and intimidating build, for no one gave a care to status anymore.

  Together, we pushed our way toward the Throne Room, which was now being used for the improvised training and arming of new soldiers. Even as we walked, I saw a woman heavy with child collapse and a man, his respect for the law forgotten, snatch one of my home’s precious possessions and stuff it in his pocket.

  A second man fell into Steldor, who without thought grabbed his collar and threw him aside, but never once did my husband’s hand relinquish mine. At last we entered the Hall of Kings, hurrying on to Cannan’s office, where the captain and his high-ranking Elite Guards had congregated.

  “I have her,” Steldor announced, slamming the door behind us and muffling the ceaseless noise.

  “Good,” Cannan said from behind his desk, motioning for us to take seats. “Galen?”

  “I didn’t see him. He’s here somewhere, though. He’ll find us.”

  Right on cue, the Sergeant at Arms hurtled through the door, Steldor drawing me out of the way just in time to avoid a crash, and I sank gratefully into a chair. Galen was panting and sweaty, a state that was prevalent in most of the men around me.

  “It’s mad out there, sir. They’re killing each other—we don’t even need the Cokyrians for that.”

  “We’re doing our best to keep order,” Cannan replied without elaboration. “In the meantime, now that both the King and Queen are here, we have some decisions to make.”

  “Is there anything more to be done in our defense, sir?” It was Casimir who had spoken, one of the six deputy captains in the room.

  Cannan stood and answered bluntly. “We’re trapped, men. The enemy has the city, and before long they’ll have the palace, as well—”

  “They’ve broken onto the grounds.” My bodyguard, the only deputy captain who had been absent, had somehow stepped unnoticed into the room. Everyone took in his somber demeanor without comment. “They’re inside the Central Courtyard. The soldiers that were defending the walls are either dead or have given up arms. It’s over.”

  Cannan’s jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, but he showed no other reaction. “Are they trying to breach the doors?”

  “No, sir,” Destari answered, then rubbed the back of his neck as if it were stiff. “They’re celebrating. They’re waiting.”

  Understanding came easily to Cannan, but he spoke his conclusion aloud regardless. “He’s coming.”

  Destari nodded, and a stoic expression formed on every face in the room except for mine, which was fraught with terror. Steldor moved to stand next to my chair, and I took his hand, clutching it as though it alone would keep me sane.

  “Narian has departed for Cokyri,” Destari said, sounding like a man who has had no choice but to accept fate. “The siege is over, and the Overlord wants to see the very moment of our defeat with his own eyes. Narian will tell him it is time.”

  So this was it: the end at last.

  There was a welcome lull that night. The people had not been told what was happening, which seemed kinder and prevented panic from shattering the fragile order Cannan had established. I stayed in the captain’s office while men came and went, including the captain himself, for it was the only place I could be without constant fear for my safety. Steldor showed me the small room located off the back of his father’s office, encouraging me to use the bunk so I could get some sleep. The room was dark and uncluttered, and somehow peaceful, for the noise from elsewhere in the palace was muted here and so steady it might have been silence.

  I dozed in a strange, dreamlike state, voices in my ears, snippets of conversation from the office that I did not want to understand, until finally it penetrated my brain that there was talk of taking the King and Queen from the palace. There was one escape tunnel that could still be used, the one that led north, outside the city. I lay in my borrowed bed, staring at the pitch-black ceili
ng, straining to hear.

  “We’re facing a mere matter of hours,” Cannan said, his tone low, but not soft enough for me to miss. “Keeping the two of you here is no longer an option.”

  “There was fighting in the forest beyond the northern wall, sir.” I recognized Casimir’s voice and knew that he, and perhaps a few others, were present in the room with the captain and Steldor. “Do you think it’s safe to take the royal family out where Cokyrian troops may still be positioned?”

  “Arrange for scouts to sweep the area,” Cannan replied. “We need an idea of what we’ll be facing. But ultimately, we’ll have no choice but to take whatever risks are presented.”

  I heard a door open and close, and assumed Casimir had gone.

  “Sir, our plans to destroy—” I heard Destari’s voice, though it was quickly interrupted by my husband.

  “I’m not leaving,” Steldor said abruptly.

  “The kingdom has fallen, Steldor,” Cannan countered “The only thing we may still be able to do is protect you and Alera.”

  “Take Alera, take the former King and Queen, but I’m not leaving.”

  A chair scraped, and I knew the captain had come to his feet.

  “When the Overlord arrives, he will kill you. Do you understand that? And it will not be a quick or dignified death.”

  “What is dignified about running away?” Steldor’s voice had grown louder, reflecting the passion in his speech. “You say I am King and that you need to protect me, but even if I go, of what will I be King? There will be no kingdom to come back to.” There was a pause, and I could picture father and son staring at each other. Then Steldor, equally determined, made his judgment known. “I die with my people.”

  Another silence ensued, then Cannan dropped the issue. “We’ll discuss it when the scouts return. Destari, your report?”

  I recalled that the Elite Guard had been speaking at the time Steldor had begun to argue with his father.

  “Sir, I was considering our crisis strategy. If there is a way for a few men to reach the targets, now would be the time.”

  “You’re right,” Cannan said, and I heard him retake his seat. “However, it would be a gamble sending men out the door at this point. The palace is surrounded, and the city is swarming with enemy soldiers. As much as I would like to take some of the sweetness out of the Cokyrians’ victory, I need to devote my men and my deputy captains to other matters. I cannot send soldiers on such a dangerous mission when it is not absolutely necessary.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  There was a slight commotion in the hallway, and the sound of the door opening and closing a second time told me that the brawny guard had gone to check on its cause.

  No one spoke, leading me to believe that only Steldor and his father remained. When the silence continued, I rose from bed and padded on bare feet to the door, pushing it open the tiniest bit so I could peek into the office.

  Steldor had moved to the padded armchair in the far corner, his head resting against its back, his eyes still open despite his obvious need for sleep. Cannan was, as I had guessed, seated behind his desk, but his gaze was on his son. I could not decipher what he was thinking, what anyone responsible for the safety of so many would be thinking.

  “You should sleep,” the captain finally said, but Steldor did not respond. Cannan did not address him again but waited patiently for him to share what was on his mind. When Steldor finally did speak, his voice was strained.

  “Father, what will happen to us?”

  Cannan took a moment, and I could see his jaw clench; then he answered.

  “When the Overlord comes, he will demand our surrender, and his terms will not be compassionate. He will torture and kill Hytanica’s leaders—you, if you remain, Alera, if she is here. He may take Adrik and Elissia, to make an example. Beyond that…I do not know.”

  My pulse raced at Cannan’s words, and I thought the terror coursing through me might cause my heart to explode, granting me a kinder and less painful death than would torture. Steldor’s chest rose and fell heavily several times while he considered his father’s words, then he rolled his head to the side, so neither Cannan nor I could clearly see his face.

  “You?”

  The rest of the question was unspoken, but Cannan understood. He waited for his son to look at him, and the instant Steldor did, I knew that, for this moment, Hytanica’s young King was done being brave.

  “Yes.”

  The word hit me almost as hard as it hit Steldor, and I stole back to lie once more on the bed, a strange ringing in my ears. How many would suffer a slow and agonizing death? Cannan had told me I had fortitude, but I did not have the fortitude to nobly face such an end. And how could my parents? In truth, how could anyone? At last I understood the reason for the myths surrounding the Overlord; at last I understood the reason for the fear and panic generated by the mere mention of his name.

  CHAPTER 20

  ONLY ONE MAN

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, FINDING MYSELF alone in the office, I ventured one last time out into the palace. While fear no longer permeated the air, it had been replaced by something worse—despair. Children begged to go home, while parents couldn’t even assure them their homes were still standing. Families held each other close, spending what they viewed as their last hours in the arms of their loved ones.

  I had not seen Steldor since I’d dozed back to sleep after his conversation with his father—he had vanished into the crowd, probably desperate for time alone to think. I doubted he would find it.

  The scouts Cannan had sent to investigate our escape route had not, to my knowledge, returned. I wondered if—when—they did, my husband would indeed refuse to evacuate. I thought of all the people I would be leaving behind, family and friends whom I loved. Could I abandon them? The coward in me said yes, with certainty. Could I bear life without them? That was a harder question to answer.

  I climbed the Grand Staircase to the second floor, which was still bustling with activity, then stole through the door into my old quarters, where memories of my childhood and of Narian lurked. Nostalgia over years past, coupled with the knowledge that I might never walk the corridors of my home or set foot in this room again, would have brought unstoppable tears if I had allowed my mind that freedom to wander. And thoughts of Narian, the strong, brave, tender young man with whom I had fallen in love, juxtaposed against the dark entity I envisioned overtaking my homeland, would have shredded my sanity.

  The suite of rooms, which had not been looted by the encroaching throng of people in light of the more readily accessible and spacious King’s Dining Hall, was exactly as it had been before I’d moved to the King’s and Queen’s quarters. I walked through the parlor and into my old bedroom, noting that the personal things I had neglected to take with me—writing paper, childhood toys, books, an old hairbrush—were untouched, and I was filled with the urge to lay on the bare bed and pretend I was a little girl and that all was right with the world.

  But I ignored these feelings, going toward the boarded-over balcony doors, then peering out the window to their right side and down into the West Courtyard. The trees and foliage were dead from the change of seasons, but I stared in horrified fascination at the assemblage of lively enemy soldiers, both men and women, moving about, laughing, drinking, feasting on food that had probably come from our stores in the city’s main warehouse. Destari had been truthful when he’d said the Cokyrians were celebrating.

  In more peaceful times, I would have been able to see past the city walls and into the fields beyond. But now a haze of smoke and dirt hung in the air, for which I was somewhat thankful, as I did not want to see the damage our own troops had been forced to inflict on our lands in order to confound the enemy.

  I pulled back when I realized that, had I come but a few hours earlier, I might have seen the bodies of some of our soldiers. Fighting had taken place in the courtyard, but by now it appeared the enemy had disposed of those who had fallen. Their bodies would never be cla
imed by grieving families, and many would never know for certain the fates of their loved ones. I sighed and gave in to the longing to lie down upon the bed, closing my eyes as though to close out the knowledge that I was a prisoner in my own home.

  I awoke disoriented, my head nestled against someone’s shoulder, and gradually became aware that I was being carried through the somewhat less hectic but still overcrowded corridors. Without even looking up, I knew in whose arms I was cradled, for his rich, musky scent and the manner of his walk were familiar. As Steldor maneuvered his way down the Grand Staircase, he noticed I had roused.

  “I would be angry with you for disappearing on us,” he chided, “but I’m too happy to have found you unharmed.”

  I nodded, not wanting to abandon the lethargic cocoon into which I had escaped. Without another word, he carried me into the captain’s office, walking past the others who had gathered, to deposit me on the bunk Cannan had been permitting me to use. He left me to join the other men, and I rested for another moment. But when my sleep-induced stupor fell away, so did my desire to be alone, and I slipped into the office to sit on the floor against the near wall, drawing my knees to my chest.

  Although there were no windows in Cannan’s office, I knew from having passed through the Grand Entry that the sun had set, and that a second night in limbo stretched out before us. Activity around the palace had slowed as there came to be less and less to do, yet the people were anxious and restive, eager to learn of our final plan, the secret way in which we would emerge triumphant from this tragic chaos, not knowing such a plan did not exist.

  When the scouts returned that evening, after a much longer absence than Cannan had expected, their news was not reassuring. Despite being highly trained reconnaissance men, and even with the cover provided by the forest, they had encountered difficulty moving about on the other side of the city’s northern wall. The enemy was everywhere and saw everything. Taking a woman, maybe two, through the forest and into the foothills would be near impossible, bordering on suicidal, and probably more risky than having my mother and me remain within the palace, adopting disguises to try to fit in with the populace.