Deceptions (Ascendant Book 3)

by Craig Alanson

  He dropped to one knee and stared at the floor, his cheeks red and not only from the blood still trickling from the cut on his forehead. “Cully Runnet, Your Highness. I need to go, my station during emergencies is at the hospital. Or,” he recalled that the gates to the inner courtyard were closed and barred, “with the fire brigade.”

  “Yes,” Captain Temmas brusquely dismissed him with a wave of a hand, “report to the guards outside. Highness-”

  “No.” Ariana glared at her chief of the palace guard. “This boy saved my life. I was drowning, and where were your guards then?”

  The chief guard’s face grew white as blood drained into his boots. “We, the gates to the inner courtyard were locked, Highness. It took, too long, for us to get the gates open,” he gave an explanation that he knew was an excuse for an inexcusable failure. He looked down at the floor of the storeroom. “I have no excuse, Highness. You may have my resignation-”

  “I do not want your resignation, Temmas,” Ariana cut off the man’s tortured words. “I want answers. And I want you to fix the problem. Our security has been breached and that is your responsibility.”

  “Certainly, Highness,” Temmas shuddered with relief. Working to fix a problem was something tangible, something he could focus on.

  “Well?” Ariana demanded.

  “Highness?” Temmas expressed his confusion.

  “You can’t oversee palace security from this storeroom!” The princess chided.

  “Oh,” he dipped one knee then rose to full height, adjusting his sword belt. “Certainly. Now that I know you are safe here, for now, I will search the palace top to bottom, I fear there may be more nasty surprises.” He shuddered. If the Citadel was not secure, no place within the palace could be trusted. At least he could be sure the humble storeroom had not been booby-trapped. The princess would have to remain there until the palace had been thoroughly scoured for enemy agents and devices. Temmas opened the door, nodded to the guards outside, and stepped through.

  Cully moved to follow, but Ariana had other ideas. “Mister Runnet, a moment, please.”

  “Your Highness?” The servant boy’s lower lip trembled fearfully. He had touched the crown princess in the process of rescuing her, and he did not know how much trouble he might be in. Surely even the royals would make allowances for the circumstances? “I am terribly sorry that-”

  “You have nothing to be sorry about, Cully Runnet,” Ariana stood in her most regal pose. “Kneel,” she ordered the boy. To the guard on her right, she held out a hand. “Your sword, please.”

  “Highness?” The guard blanched, not understanding.

  The wizard understood clearly, and she was alarmed. “Princess Ariana,” Olivia spoke sharply. “May I speak with you, privately? Now?”

  Ariana froze, then turned toward the wizard with irritation. “What is it?”

  “Please,” Olivia nodded toward a back corner of the storeroom. “It is important, and it cannot wait.”

  “Oh,” Ariana threw up a hand in exasperation. “Very well. Stay here,” she gestured to Cully, then, seeing the boy’s confusion, she added, “you may stand up.” The crown princess stomped off to a dark corner of the storeroom, and when the wizard joined her, hissed “What is so important?”

  “What were you about to do, Highness?” Olivia asked, knowing full well what the future queen of Tarador had in mind.

  Ariana’s jaw set. “I am going to do something I should have done, for someone else, some time ago.”

  “Cully Runnet is not Koren Bladewell.”

  “Yes, thank you,” Ariana’s tone contained no thankfulness. “He is not Koren, and he will receive far more than Koren ever did, though Koren deserved so much more.” At that, a tear rolled down her cheek unbidden. Putting a fist to her mouth, she stifled a sob.

  The gulf of formality and station between them made it awkward for Olivia, so rather than offering the grief-stricken girl an embrace, she took Ariana’s hand in hers, and squeezed in a gesture she hoped conveyed comfort. “Koren did, does, deserve much more. But, Highness, if you give this boy honors for saving you, for saving us, will it not seem suspicious that you did not give such honors to Koren?”

  “As if that matters now,” Ariana pulled her hand away and used it to wipe away tears. “With Koren wandering the wilderness all alone, or wherever he is,” she could no longer contain her emotions, and slumped against a stack of crates, softly crying.

  Still hesitant to be familiar with the princess, Olivia reached out to touch the other girl’s shoulders. “Did, do you love him?”

  “No,” Ariana’s eyes welled with tears. “How could I love him? I didn’t even know who he is. He didn’t know. Koren saved my life, he brought the Cornerstone back to us, he saved Lord Salva’s life, and I rewarded him by making him fear for his own life.”

  “You did not do that, Your Highness.”

  Ariana shook her head angrily. “I am the heir to the throne. Tarador is my realm, what happens here is my responsibility.”

  “Your mother was Regent-”

  “She is not Regent now! I can’t help Koren, I can’t fix all my mistakes. He probably hates me-”

  “I’m sure that is not true.”

  “How could he not hate me? I cheated him out of the honors he deserved, and my Royal Army hunted him like a common criminal. Still hunts him today, because Lord Salva tells me that is necessary.”

  “It is, Your Highness,” Olivia winced at how empty her words sounded even to herself.

  “Lady Dupres,” Ariana’s tone was icy. She wiped tears away with a filthy sleeve of her dress and stood up straight. “It was advice from wizards that got us into this mess. Koren would not have run away if my mother had not taken Lord Salva’s advice. It was wizards who failed him. Please do not tell me now that you and your fellow wizards know what is best for Koren Bladewell, or that you care about him. Lord Salva sees Koren only as a tool, a weapon. They don’t care about him.”

  Olivia knew that was absolutely far from the truth, and she also knew anything she could say would only make the princess more angry, so she took one step back and simply nodded. “As you wish, Highness. I must admit, nothing you do here now could make the situation worse for Koren. If you want to reward that boy, could I offer him my thanks also? He saved my life also. My foot was wedged under a stone, I would have drowned soon if he had not reached me. He nearly died saving me.”

  Cully had remained kneeling on the floor, trembling slightly and trying to tilt his head so the blood seeping down from his forehead stayed out of his eyes. In a far corner of the storeroom, the Regent of Tarador and a powerful wizard were arguing about something, and Cully feared that though they spoke too softly for him to hear, they had to be talking about him. What would be the punishment for a lowly servant boy who touched both a crown princess and a wizard? A young lady wizard? He could only imagine, and his fears nearly ran away with him. It was all he could do not to burst to his feet and rush out the door. The discussion apparently ended, both regal girls returned to the front of the storeroom. The wizard still looked unhappy and the eyes of the princess were red from crying, but she appeared- happy? Cully did not know what to make of that. Why was the princess happy, when she had barely escaped another attempt on her life?

  “Your sword,” Ariana held out a hand, and this time the guard did not hesitate. The man went down on one knee and surrendered his sword to his Regent, pommel held out first.

  Ariana took the sword, nearly dropping it as the weight of the weapon surprised her. She fumbled awkwardly, her turn to be embarrassed. The delicate fencing weapons she used in her all-too-infrequent sparring sessions with the royal weapons master were light and well balanced compared to the heavy battering sword carried by the royal guard force. When she feared she would clumsily cut the servant boy’s ear off, she took hold of the sword with both hands and carefully placed it on Cully’s right shoulder, the blade trembling slightly. “Cully Runnet, for service above and beyond the call o
f duty, for saving the life of your crown princess and a wizard in service to Tarador,” she grunted slightly in a fashion not befitting a princess, as she slowly swung the sword to thump harder than she wanted onto Cully’s left shoulder. “I knight thee Sir Cully Runnet.”

  “Si-” Cully’s head reeled in disbelief. “M- me? But, but I can’t-”

  “Sir Runnet,” Ariana’s amusement shone on her face though she tried and failed to scowl at the boy. “Are you questioning your future queen?”

  “That would not be good,” Olivia played along. “A knight of the realm owes absolute loyalty to his ruler.”

  “No!” Cully blanched and wavered on his knees, needing a hand on the floor to steady himself. “I mean, Your Highness, I,” he stammered and lost his voice.

  Ariana dragged the tip of the sword across the floor and held out the pommel to the guard, who returned it easily to his scabbard. “Rise, Sir Runnet,” she gestured dramatically.

  Cully staggered to his feet. “I’m, Your Highness, I am truly a knight?”

  “Yes, you are, Sir Runnet,” Olivia assured him, placing a steadying hand on his shoulder to prevent the stunned boy from falling over.

  “Now, Sir Runnet,” Ariana’s expression turned serious again. “Report to the royal hospital to have that cut on your forehead attended to. Guard,” she ordered the man whose name she could not recall, “see that Sir Runnet reaches the hospital without interference.”

  “Your Highness,” Cully had tears freely streaming down his face and he made no attempt to wipe them away with the dirty sleeve of his shirt. “Thank you.”

  “Sir Runnet, you may thank us,” Ariana used the royal ‘we’, “by serving us faithfully as a knight of the realm. After you see the doctors, and after you are properly trained to your service.”

  Cully needed a guard’s help to stand. The man guided him out the door with a gentle hand on Cully’s shoulder. Outside in the inner courtyard, the servant boy had to pause to bend over, hands on knees and take deep breaths. “I’ve never been a knight before,” he explained to the guard, feeling foolish even as he said the words.

  “Nor have I, Sir Runnet,” the guard smiled, and it was a genuine smile. The servant boy, former servant boy, had saved the life of the crown princess and a wizard. Awarding a knighthood to the boy was as it should be according to the rules the guard lived by, and it made him hopeful he might someday be rewarded if he performed with distinction.

  “Oh. Yes. Sorry,” Cully stood back up, and squared his shoulders. He was a knight of the realm now, Sir Runnet. He could not slump when he stood. He needed to hold himself tall and proud. Whatever else knights did was still a mystery to him, but he did know knights carried themselves with dignity. He looked around the courtyard. Thin, gray smoke was curling up from the shattered window of the Citadel tower, and several blocks of stone were teetering precariously, threatening to fall into the moat. The drawbridge was now fully retracted, and all the lower windows had heavy iron shutters closed and barred across the openings. He looked the other way, to the fire brigade box, to the six buckets he had pulled out to sit on the cobblestones. The buckets were still there, unused. Someone else, he realized with a start, would be putting the buckets back when the emergency was over. He would no longer be standing by a fire box during drills, nor working in the stables, nor splitting or hauling firewood. He would not be a servant at all. He would not be one of the servants. His shoulders did slump slightly when he considered that all his friends were servants, and now there would be a vast gulf between them and Sir Cully Runnet. That thought made him sad.

  Then he thought of how proud his parents would be to learn their son, who had caused them a fair share of trouble over the years, was now a knight. A knight! “Which way,” he looked around, embarrassed, “to the hospital?”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Departing the harbor was far more complicated that Paedris expected; it had been many years since he had taken a sea voyage. The ship was prepared with the small crew waiting for Captain Reed’s order to set sail at any moment. Supplies were tucked away below decks, the ship’s bottom had been scraped of weeds and algae and barnacles as much as was possible without beaching the ship, and the sails furled on the yardarms were new or freshly patched. The wind appeared to Paedris to be favorable at times and he eagerly anticipated getting underway, but the sailors always felt something was not right. The wind was blowing from the wrong direction, or the wind could not be trusted to last more than a few hours which would leave the ship becalmed off the rocks at the harbor entrance. Or the wind was good but the tide was coming in. The sailors of the Lady Hildegard reminded Paedris of the people who farmed his land; they also were almost never happy about the weather. It either rained too much or not enough, Spring came too early or too late, the first frost arrived before the harvest was in or the late summer heat lingered too long after the crops were in. When there was a rare year when every condition was perfect and a bumper crop was harvested, all the surrounding farms also had grain bins overflowing at harvest time and prices were low. Also, a near-perfect growing season was not to be trusted, according to the farmers, because that meant Fate was toying with them and the following years were sure to be disastrous. Paedris could sympathize with the people whose livelihoods depended on things they could not control such as weather. He had less patience with experienced sailors who could not seem to get their ship to sail!

  “Captain Reed,” Paedris walked to the rail where the ship’s master stood, on the third morning the ship had swung idly at anchor despite being entirely ready for sea. “Surely this fine breeze will carry us out of the harbor this morning?” He tilted his head back to looked at the sky, and the wind playfully stirred his beard.

  Reed also looked up, although rather than staring ignorantly at the pretty white clouds, he noted the type of cloud in each layer of the sky, and how the breeze made the ends of lines sway on the topmast. To his satisfaction, the lines were swaying more than they had been early that morning, as were the telltale ribbons attached to the shrouds leading down to the deck. “Not at the moment, Master Wizard, for the tide is still coming in and would be against us.” he looked down and pointed at a piece of wood floating in the lee of the ship. The waterlogged stick was bobbing along steadily, moving past the ship and into the harbor.

  “Ah, the damned tide again,” Paedris muttered unhappily.

  “Fear not, Lord Salva,” Reed chuckled. “Slack tide is in two hours, and we should cast off from the buoy then. The afternoon breeze here is typically onshore, but with this wind from the east, we will clear the harbor well before we must begin beating back and forth.”

  “Beating?”

  “Tacking,” Reed explained to the landlubber wizard. “Sailing to port then to starboard, into the wind,” he motioned with one hand to illustrate. “Come evening, we will pick up a breeze from the land and it will carry us over the horizon, where we can pick up the Easterlies.”

  “Easter-” The wizard repeated without understanding.

  “This time of year, the prevailing wind is from the east, or east-southeast, and will carry us toward Acedor. Unless,” he bowed in an audaciously bold manner, “your Lordship would care to conjure up a more reliable, favorable wind for us?”

  “No,” Paedris took the captain’s jest in good humor. “Getting underway later this morning will be sufficient.”

  Reed looked at the telltales lazily flopping in the inconsistent breeze. “We will get her out today. It may, Lord Salva, require us hiring boats to tow her out toward the harbor entrance. These hills,” he gestured left and right to the rolling but tall hills that ringed the harbor, “block the wind and make it swirl unpredictably at times.”

  “Boats?” Paedris asked, not understanding.

  “Yes. If I had a full crew, we could man the sweeps ourselves; even then I would want the security of boats to keep us off those rocks,” he pointed to the western shore of the harbor, where dark rocks stood half submerged.

&nbs
p; “Boats rowed by mere men can pull this ship?” Cecil asked incredulously. He knew, because he had seen with his own eyes, that the Lady Hildegard had been lightened by removing anything not needed for her voyage of hopefully less than a month. She carried no anchors or chain, no heavy storm canvas, and only minimal provisions for the crew. What weight she carried was tucked away in the lower hold where it acted as ballast. The ship probably had never been so light since she was launched. But still, Cecil had to think the ship still weighed many, many tons!

  “Certainly,” Reed nodded. “I have been in difficult, awkward anchorages where the only way out, short of a miraculous offshore wind, is to use boats to tow an anchor farther out from the harbor. Drop the second anchor there, haul up your first anchor, then use the windlass to pull the ship up to the second anchor. Use the boat again to tow the first anchor out farther, and” the captain shrugged, “repeat.”

  Cecil looked at Paedris, eyes wide in disbelief. “That seems to be, rather a lot of work.”

  “A sailor’s life can be a hard one, aye,” Reed agreed with a touch of pride. “But, we have our tricks to make things easier. If this breeze freshens as I expect, boats will not be needed.” He raised an eyebrow.

  Paedris caught the man’s meaning. “Yes, if you need to hire boats, do so and I will see they are paid. I wish to get underway today,” he stated flatly, not adding that he had really wanted to get underway two days ago.

  Within the hour, the two wizards could see and hear increased activity aboard their ship. Orders were shouted, feet pounded on the deck and men ran up from the lower decks to tend the sails. Paedris and Cecil left their cabins and went topside to view the excitement.