Without missing a beat, she said, ‘Were you a true warrior, Duke Hadiermo, I might accept. Since neither of us appear suited to the task, take your leave of us.’ She turned to Pastien. ‘Unless you have further use of the Ducal Council, my Lord?’
It took a while for Pastien’s tongue to come unstuck. ‘No . . . no further use, your Majest— I mean, my Lady.’
I would have expected the Dukes to fume some more, perhaps make a few more threats, promise all kinds of retribution, but the truth was, these weren’t stupid men; they’d said what they’d come to say and there was nothing left to discuss. The Dukes would leave Luth to fall, and hope we’d go with it. All of this had been a stage play, targeted at one man: Duke Jillard. He was the most likely to support us if we came through the next few days; we’d needed to show him that we weren’t giving up.
‘Good luck,’ he said as he walked by, a firm hand on the back of Tommer’s collar. It actually sounded like he meant it.
Once the Dukes and their entourages had left, Quentis and his Inquisitors approached me. ‘We will remove ourselves from the palace for tonight,’ he said. He looked more than a little pained. ‘I want you to know that I wasn’t aware of any plans to . . . I’m a man of the Law, Falcio. The Council of Clerics doesn’t consult me on politics. I investigate what they tell me to investigate and I—’
His sincerity annoyed me. ‘You don’t care that your Saints are being murdered to put your clerics in power? You don’t care that the desecrated churches are—?’
‘You’re wrong, First Cantor. The men I work for . . . they may not be perfect, but they are devout. I truly believe they would never sully their souls with such acts.’
‘Sure,’ I said, ‘because no one’s ever committed a crime in the name of the Gods.’
He raised a hand. ‘We’re not going to agree on this, Falcio. Out of respect for . . . well, out of respect, I’m pulling my men from the palace. We’ll make camp a little ways down the road. But in a few hours, when the delegation comes, my Council is going to command me to help secure the palace and I’m going to have no choice but to do so.’ He glanced down to the pistol at his side. ‘You’re fast, Trattari, but you’re not that fast.’
It was strange. Against my better judgement I sort of liked Quentis Maren. We were both men of the Law, magistrates and duellists. We might not agree on everything, but we understood each other. So I really didn’t hold any ill will towards him. I smiled and said, ‘You never know, Cogneri. Sometimes I surprise people.’
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
The Realm’s Protector
‘Well, that was fun,’ Brasti said, descending from the gallery with his bow in hand. Kest, Mateo, Ethalia and the Tailor followed him. We had decided that we probably didn’t need to aggravate the situation by having more of us annoying the Dukes than necessary – also, it helps to keep a little surprise prepared, just in case things don’t go to plan. ‘Anyone want to tell me what the point of that little performance was?’
I was about to answer when Aline cut me off. ‘It was a rehearsal,’ she said. Her eyes caught mine. ‘For all of you.’
The tone of her voice took me unawares. ‘I don’t understand. I thought we wanted to show Jillard that—’
Aline turned to Pastien. ‘Summon your chamberlain and the captain of your guards now, please.’
The young Ducal Protector signalled for his page, who took off at a run for the door.
‘What are you doing, sweetling?’ the Tailor asked, looking not at all pleased.
Aline stepped down from the dais to stand in front of Kest. ‘What is the avertiere’s weakness?’ she asked.
He was surprised by the question. ‘In fencing, the avertiere’s weakness is his reliance on the opponent trying to deflect the false attacks.’
‘Child,’ the Tailor said, ‘this isn’t the time for—’
Aline took up an imaginary guard position against Kest, extending her right arm as though it held a sword. ‘And if his opponent doesn’t parry? If he attacks instead?’
Kest shook his head. ‘It’s not that simple: if you don’t parry the attack’ – he lunged with his left hand, touching her shoulder before she could react – ‘the avertiere will simply follow through and deliver the blow.’
She reached out her other hand and held onto Kest’s. ‘A sacrifice is made, but now you can no longer attack your true target and I am free to counter-attack.’
‘So long as you aren’t dead,’ I said, not liking where this was going.
Aline returned to the dais and walked to where Valiana sat unmoving. She took one of her hands and helped her up. ‘Any attempt to permanently transform this country hinges on eliminating Valiana. She’s the one who holds Tristia together.’
‘Sweetheart,’ Brasti said, taking a seat on the floor next to one of the pillars, ‘I know you look up to her, but—’
She cut him off. ‘Don’t treat me like a child, Brasti Goodbow. It just makes you look like an idiot.’
‘She’s right,’ Kest said slowly. ‘Not about Brasti being an idiot . . . well, perhaps that too, but mostly that Valiana’s the one who’s been building the relationships that have kept money flowing into Aramor and kept the Dukes from walking away from the Council. It’s all been on her shoulders.’
I looked over at this girl of barely twenty, standing a few feet away from me, trapped behind the mask. How could one young woman hold the weight of an entire nation on her shoulders? With no help from you, I realised bitterly. I’d been a selfish fool every step of the way, trying to prove the Greatcoats were still relevant, that I was still relevant, and all the while, our enemies had been plotting not against me or even Aline, but against Valiana, and through her, the entire country.
‘Fine,’ Brasti said, ‘but she can’t do the job now, so we need a new Realm’s Protector.’
Kest shook his head. ‘No, it’s as I told you before, it doesn’t work that way. The legal provisions in the Regia Maniferecto De’egro governing the appointment of a Realm’s Protector are archaic. There’s no mechanism for replacement, or succession, or anything else.’
‘So who’s in charge then?’ Tommer asked.
‘I am,’ The Tailor said finally. ‘As the girl’s grandmother, I am the only one who can stand as her regent while there is no Realm’s Protector. That’s a law older than the written word in this country.’
‘Hang on,’ Brasti said, getting to his feet. ‘Let me grab my bow again.’
‘My grandmother is right,’ Aline said. ‘There are going to be hard decisions that will have to be made and we can’t afford dissension between us. Someone has to take charge if we are to be united.’
The Tailor rose to her feet. ‘Wise girl,’ she said. ‘All right, here’s—’
‘Sit down,’ Aline said. She didn’t wait for compliance, but instead spoke to all of us in a clear, steady voice. ‘I am the heir to the throne of Tristia. The Realm’s Protector exists only to act in my stead. If she dies or cannot perform her duties, then by those ancient laws Kest was referring to, those powers revert to me.’ She glanced over at the Tailor. ‘Not to you, nor anyone else. To me.’
‘That’s . . . one interpretation,’ Kest said.
‘It’s the only one that matters.’
The doors to the throne room opened and the page returned with the palace chamberlain and the captain of the guards. Neither looked very comfortable. It’s probably hard to be cheerful when you know you’re hours away from being attacked. Pastien took two rolled decrees from his coat and handed one to each of the men awaiting him. ‘Captain Ciradoc, Chamberlain Matrist,’ he said. ‘As of now the Duchy of Luth is no longer sovereign, and thus it falls under the command of the Crown.’ He bowed to Aline. ‘The heir will give you your orders now.’
The Chamberlain looked like he’d just choked on something. ‘But how can—?’
‘Gentlemen, time is short,’ Aline said. ‘Captain Ciradoc, in a few hours the clerics and their Knights will arrive, fully in
tending on taking the palace. When they do . . .’ She stopped and looked over at the rest of us before finishing, ‘You will let them.’
‘Wait, what?’
Aline gave a flick of her finger to silence me.
‘You want us to lay down arms?’ Ciradoc asked.
‘More than that. You will place yourself and your men under the command of the clerics.’
‘I don’t understand . . . are we to pretend—?’
‘Don’t pretend,’ Aline said. ‘Follow their orders. The people of this Duchy have already suffered enough chaos and confusion. The clerics are taking this palace. Make the transition as smooth as you can.’
‘The Viscounts and Margraves won’t stand for this,’ Matrist said.
‘Look around,’ Aline replied. ‘You’ll find the palace in short supply of noblemen right now. Your job, Chamberlain, is to see to it anyone who needs to leave the palace can do so quickly. There might be some here to whom the Church won’t take kindly, and it would be best they were gone before they decide to make use of the Inquisitors.’
‘Pardon my saying, my Lady,’ Ciradoc began, ‘but first among those would be yourselves.’
Aline acknowledged the man’s concern for her. ‘Don’t worry about us, Captain. We’ll be leaving in due course.’
‘Can I —? Some of my men could—’
‘No, Captain. When the clerics arrive, I will depart with the dignity required of my station.’
The captain looked uncertainly at the girl standing before him. ‘Excuse me for asking, but how?’
Aline smiled. ‘Through the front door, of course.’
*
I managed to restrain myself until after the guardsman and the chamberlain had left, but then I shouted, ‘Have you lost your mind?’
Aline held herself very firm. ‘As of right now, First Cantor, I am taking on the duties of the Realm’s Protector of Tristia. I need your support in this. Do the Greatcoats stand with me?’
I clenched my hands in frustration. Of all the problems I had to deal with, a teenage girl’s naïve notions of how to run a country shouldn’t have been one of them. Brasti, Kest, even Mateo would follow my orders. If I told them to ignore Aline and get her somewhere safe, lock her in until the danger was past, they’d do it. After all, it’s our job to protect her, even if it’s from herself.
I was about to speak when Valiana grabbed for my wrist. She took my hand and squeezed, and somehow I understood that she wanted me to trust Aline, a fourteen-year-old girl who was badly traumatised by the events of her young life. The sane, sensible thing to do would be to treat her that way – except that I’d thought the same of Valiana not long ago and she’d proved me wrong. Maybe it’s not enough to protect people, I thought suddenly. Maybe sometimes I have to trust them, too. ‘The Greatcoats stand with you,’ I said.
‘Enough of this nonsense,’ the Tailor said, stepping up to the dais. She reached out a hand for her granddaughter. ‘Sweetling, I know you want to show you’re brave, but this—’
‘Silence,’ Aline said.
The command had been delivered with such force that it took me a moment to realise it wasn’t Valiana speaking. Aline stood there, unflinching while the Tailor gave her a stare that I was absolutely convinced would stop a raging bear in its tracks, and I realised that Aline had probably been readying herself for this fight from the moment we’d entered the throne room.
‘The laws don’t exist for your convenience, Tailor. They weren’t written to give you the means to exact your revenge on the world for all your grievances.’ Aline looked at each of us in turn. ‘You all think I’m a little girl, barely able to keep from falling apart at the seams.’ She stepped down from the dais and walked over to one of the tall windows that looked out to the courtyard. ‘Yesterday – yesterday that was true. Yesterday, I could afford to be a weak child who couldn’t hold a sword properly and lived or died only by the whims of others. But today, when we know . . . we know the enemy seeks to use my weakness against us all? I can’t afford to be that silly little girl any more. So today I am Aline, daughter of Paelis, heir to the throne of Tristia, and until Valiana is free from that mask, I am also the Realm’s Protector, and anyone who tries to dispute or ignore that fact will answer to me.’
In tone, in style, in raw determination, it was like watching Valiana in action. Valiana’s been training her for this, for this moment, in case something happened. Sometimes it took me a while to catch up.
Valiana squeezed my hand again, not seeking explanation of what was happening but more tenderly, and it suddenly occurred to me that she was trying to reassure me. I squeezed back, wishing I could say to her what was in my heart: you are the woman fathers dream of bringing into the world.
The Tailor and I looked at each other, two angry, broken creatures seeking only to protect Aline as we had failed to protect her father. Neither of us knew what to do next.
But at least we knew who was in charge.
*
For the next several minutes Aline proceeded to give us our orders in a whirl of words. This was her country now, for as many hours or days as she could hold it. She called for the rest of the palace staff, told them what was to come and instructed them on what they needed to do during the transition. I was amazed at how much she had learned in such a short time.
When she took Brasti aside and gave him his instructions, his eyes widened, and then he gave a smile. ‘For once someone gives me orders I like.’
Shortly before dawn she ordered Kest to get Ethalia out of the palace; we’d all meet up later, a few miles outside the city. Mateo was sent through the servants’ passage to the back of the palace with the bag of nightmist. The Tailor and Pastien went to pack up any vital documents that might be needed.
I was wondering what my last job in Luth might be when Aline announced, ‘I need you with me when I meet with the clerics.’
‘What for?’
‘I might need you to intimidate them a little.’
This is how it falls apart, I thought. She believes I’m some grand hero who will chase away all her enemies with a stern glance.
Seeing my hesitation, Aline said, ‘Of course I have doubts, Falcio, but I’m going to need you to have faith in me now.’
Faith. The one thing I had never had much of. Even so, there was only one answer. ‘Whatever comes, I’ll stand with you,’ I said.
She smiled faintly and returned to the endless preparations. There wasn’t much I could contribute so I just waited until all her orders had been issued, then Aline joined me where I was sitting with my back against the wall at the far end of the dais.
‘So what now?’ I asked.
‘Now we wait until the clerics arrive, and then we go out there to deal with them.’ She sat next to me and stretched out her legs. ‘It’s all right, Falcio. It’s just like Rijou during the Blood Week – all we have to do is fight our way out.’ She spoke with the perfect confidence of a duellist who has no idea what they’re about to face.
Is she still Aline? I wondered. Is she still the child broken by too much tragedy? If the rest is an act, a performance, how long will it hold? In Rijou we’d faced Ganath Kalila and a city full of killers and thieves, men and women who would’ve traded Aline’s life for a single black penny. That felt so long ago now. We’d accomplished so much, come so close – here we sat, in the middle of a Ducal Palace, on friendly ground.
‘We were supposed to be safe here,’ I said.
Aline reached over and took my hand in hers. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against my shoulder. ‘Nowhere’s safe, Falcio,’ she said sadly. ‘Haven’t you figured that out yet?’
CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
The Delegation
The hours slipped by unnoticed. Aline and I dozed off, leaning against each other like two vagrants snoozing against a tavern wall. At some point I heard shouting from outside and the door opened – some errant nobleman, probably demanding an audience with Pastien, had jostled his way past th
e guards. Whatever he’d expected to see probably wasn’t Aline and me looking preposterous slumped together, having a nap on the floor. I wondered briefly if he’d been embarrassed, then went back to sleep.
I awoke some time later to a hand shaking me. ‘The clerics are here,’ Captain Ciradoc said. He really didn’t look very happy. ‘Lady Aline, are you sure you won’t let me—?’
‘You have your orders, Captain: just you, and the men at the gate.’
I rubbed at my eyes and then saw Aline holding a silver platter at arm’s length, using it as a mirror. ‘This isn’t quite the correct attire for welcoming dignitaries,’ she said, smoothing her dress, ‘but it’s formal enough not to ruffle too many feathers.’
‘Ha!’ I pushed myself to my feet, ignoring my aching joints. ‘Since most of the clerics I’ve met wore grubby robes so worn I was lucky not to find myself greeting their private parts, I don’t imagine we need worry too much about whether we’re sporting rabbit instead of ermine.’
*
It turned out that I was quite wrong: the three clerics who awaited us outside the palace gates looked as regal as Kings, their richly coloured silk and brocade robes flapping in the breeze like the proud flags of a conquering nation. They were made even more magnificent set against the field of spotless white tabards on the hundred Knights standing behind them. The two hundred-odd pilgrims in the courtyard looked upon them in awe. Even Quentis and his Inquisitors had given their grey leather coats a bit of a polish. Enjoy your pretty clothes while you can, friend.
Aline had cautioned me to remain calm and dignified and I put every effort to that endeavour, though the white tabards were filling me with fury. I am so sick of Knights, I thought. They’re at the centre of every fucking problem this country ever has.
‘Open the gate, Captain,’ Aline commanded Ciradoc.
The man looked askance at the force assembled outside and tried again to dissuade her, but she stopped him, saying, ‘Shush, Captain. I won’t be rude to our guests.’
Saint's Blood: The Greatcoats Book 3 Page 32