Traders and Traitors (Stavin DragonBlessed Book 2)

by Loren K. Jones

  Other servers were seeing to the nobles, and Stavin noticed that they were skipping from person to person rather than just going down the line. Another server had seen to Lord Sarvan while Stavin was being served. It occurred to him that they were going by rank, and that in itself was a revelation. The only people who had been served before them had been King Kalin and Princess Marina.

  When the servers had gone on to lower tables, Lady Ehrwan elbowed Lord Sarvan in the ribs, and from the sound he made, it wasn't a gentle nudge. "That was mean."

  Lord Sarvan ducked his head a little and said, "Sorry."

  "Don't apologize to me, Sarvan." She shifted her attention to Stavin. "Please forgive Sarvan, Friend Stavin. He sometimes forgets that he's supposed to be an adult now."

  "Lady?"

  "We all know that you've never attended a feast in the palace," she explained. "He should have guided you concerning the selections available, but he fell back on his bad old habits."

  Lord Sarvan was actually looking contrite as he looked down at Stavin. "Please accept my apologies, Friend Stavin."

  Stavin couldn't help but chuckle. "Think nothing of it, Lord Sarvan. Actually, that's a lot closer to what I'm used to than anything else that's happened to me today."

  "How so?" Lord Dahvin asked.

  Stavin grinned up at the young lord. "I'm the youngest of six children, Lord Zel'Fordal. You know how big brothers are." That comment drew subdued laughter from the nobles who were close enough to hear it.

  Minstrels were strolling around the room now, playing softly as the nobles ate and laughed. Stavin ate cautiously, aware that in spite of everything that had happened he was a commoner among nobles. He watched the table manners of those around him and consciously imitated Lord Dahvin.

  The laughter from the center of the king's table grew loud for a moment, then subsided as Princess Marina looked down the table straight into Stavin's eyes. She was still smiling broadly and nodded her head ever so slightly in his direction.

  The evening wore on, and after what seem to have been a long time to Stavin, the bell rang once again. The king stood and waited until every eye was on him before speaking.

  "My noble lords and ladies, thank you for joining us this evening in honoring Friend Stavin." With that the king turned away and everyone rose, remaining where they were as the royal party left. Once the king and princess were gone, everyone began moving and talking. Stavin remained where he was for a moment before heading toward the door.

  The valet was waiting just outside the door and smiled when Stavin appeared. "This way, Friend Stavin. From what I saw, you had the best possible company for the feast."

  "The lords and ladies were very kind. Especially Lady Ehrwan," Stavin answered.

  The valet smiled and said, “Lady Ehrwan is known for her kindness,” then guided Stavin through the maze of passageways that led to his suite. Once there, Stavin went to the bedroom and carefully removed his borrowed finery. He began to remove his under padding as well, but the room had a distinct chill and he decided to keep it on. He turned down the lamp, then climbed into the huge bed. He was reminded of the first night he'd spent as master of the Kel'Carin household and laughed softly. This bed was easily half again the size of Barvil and Sahrena's.

  He stared at the ceiling as the big bed seemed to swallow him in its soft embrace, but sleep was being a stranger this night. His mind was still racing, reviewing everything that had happened from the first moment he'd seen Lord Zel'Candan.

  The big knife had looked so right on the lord's hip that he'd almost missed it. Indeed, if the lord hadn't been so nasty he might have. He'd also been curious as to what the king would say. What answer would he give when he thought Stavin was out of earshot? It had been his gratitude that the king was defending him that had been partially responsible for his turning to look back.

  The thought, the king really does like me, ran through Stavin’s mind several times. It hadn't been an act. It hadn't been that he just wanted to be associated with the dragon-scale armor, as several people had suggested over the winter. King Kalin had really meant it when he'd called Stavin a friend.

  And the amulets had proven their value beyond their weight in gold and diamonds. The four amulets, together with their chains, weighted almost two Imperial Fists. He'd nearly thrown his shoulder out when he threw the bag. He chuckled in the empty room as he remembered how Lord Zel'Candan had staggered when the bag had hit the back of his head. He replayed the fight in his mind, and had to admit to himself that he'd been lucky that the stunned lord hadn't struck at his unarmored head. Warmaster Kel'Horval might have found some fault with his unarmed combat technique, but he'd always said, in the end, if you're alive and he's dead, you did fine.

  Stavin sighed and wriggled his shoulders deeper into the bed. The banquet had been terrifying until Lady Ehrwan had taken him under her wing. He was also grateful to the young lords for protecting him from any spiteful nobles.

  It had taken him a while to put it together, but since Sarvan Zel'Andral was in fact second in line to the throne, his protection was sufficient to keep just about everyone else at bay.

  Lord Dahvin was another powerful ally. His father was Lord General Zel'Fordal, and his aunt had been Queen Carissa. That put him somewhere in line for the throne as well. He'd also shown what seemed like a genuine sense of humor that Stavin could relate to.

  The great nobility of Evandia, and all of them being nice to me, he mused as a smile stretched his lips in the darkness. That thought calmed his restless mind as it ran through his head and he finally drifted off.

  Stavin was asleep, but the inborn caution of a caravan guard was at full alert. When there was a noise from the other room his eyes snapped open, but he didn't move aside from that. He was just starting to drift off again when the door to his bedroom opened. There was no light except for the dim glow of the lamp, but that was sufficient for him to see someone ease into the room.

  The intruder didn't make a sound as he moved toward the bed, and Stavin narrowed his eyes so the person would think he was asleep. He maintained the pretense right up until the intruder raised a knife.

  Stavin rolled away and came up onto his knees, then did a backward summersault off the bed, landing on his feet. "Did you really think I'd be that easy to kill?" he asked with a grin.

  The assassin didn't say anything. He just began circling around the bed. Stavin stayed where he was until the man reached the near corner of the bed, then he laughed and jumped, rolling across the bed to land on the other side.

  Now the assassin snarled. "You'll die this night, fool. You've made more enemies than you can imagine."

  Stavin just smiled. When the assassin reached the corner of the bed, Stavin snatched up the lamp and threw it at his head. The assassin instinctively raised his hands to block it, and the lamp shattered against the hilt of his knife. Lamp oil splashed onto the man and the guttering wick ignited it. In an instant he was turned into a screaming torch, his knife forgotten as both of his hands beat futilely at the flames that covered his body.

  The door whipped open, but it was only the valet. "Friend Stavin, what--"

  "Help me!" Stavin commanded and the man came forward. Stavin grabbed the heavy quilt from the bed and charged the assassin. He tackled the man, then he and the valet smothered the flames. The man was still writhing in pain and screaming. Stavin snatched the knife from the floor and tossed it away.

  "Go get help," Stavin commanded, and the valet immediately dashed to the door. He was back in just a few moments with four Palace Guardsmen.

  "We heard the screams," the lead guardsman said as he entered the room. "What happened?"

  "He was sent to kill me," Stavin replied. "I'm not impressed with the quality of the assassins in Evandia."

  The guardsmen looked at him, then at the groaning man on the floor. "Was he armed?" the leader asked.

  Stavin nodded and pointed toward the bed. The knife was where he'd thrown it, and the guardsman walked over to
look at it. "No markings," he muttered as he carefully inspected it. Looking back at the man on the floor, he snapped, "Bring him." As two of the other guardsmen grabbed the groaning assassin, the leader turned toward Stavin and bowed. "He will be questioned, but he probably won't provide us with much information."

  Stavin nodded. "Do as you think best, but I think the guards around the king should be warned first."

  "They were," the guardsman replied. "As soon as we heard the screaming we sent the alert, then came to investigate."

  Stavin bowed and watched as the guardsmen took the assassin away. Turning to the valet, Stavin said, "I need to get out of here. That smell is turning my stomach."

  The valet didn't look like he felt any better than Stavin did, and they both left the bedroom, closing the door firmly behind them. Stavin moved over to his armor, but the valet cleared his throat.

  "I think regular clothing would be more appropriate, Friend Stavin."

  Stavin stopped for a moment, then shook his head and continued to his armor. "I think my armor would be better. Lord Dahvin is taking me to the Guards' barracks to introduce me to the commanders of the Royal Guard. Help me, please."

  The valet did as he was asked, but Stavin held up his hand when the man picked up his trader's vest. "I don't think that would be appropriate under the guard's cape."

  The valet tilted his head to the side, then nodded and carefully folded the vest, laying it aside. "What do you wish to do now, Friend Stavin?"

  Stavin stuffed his gauntlets into his helmet and set them beside his vest. "I want to get out of here. I can still smell the bedroom."

  The valet nodded and led the way out of the suite, turning to the right and leading Stavin away from the stench of burned flesh. They hadn't gone far when they heard the sound of running feet behind them. Stavin turned to see two Royal Guardsmen jogging up the passageway toward them.

  The guardsmen slowed to a walk as they approached Stavin and the valet, and Stavin could see the confused expressions on their faces. "We were sent to retrieve Friend Stavin," one of them said as they stopped.

  Stavin stepped forward and looked up at the man. "Where are we going?"

  The guardsman looked at Stavin and swallowed visibly. "Um, Friend Stavin, that's a Royal Guards officer's cape."

  "Yes. At the banquet last night I was made a lieutenant in the Royal Guards for saving King Kalin," Stavin replied.

  The guardsmen snapped to attention. "Sir, you are wanted in the guard barracks concerning the man who was taken from your suite this morning."

  Stavin bowed his head slightly and said, "Very well."

  The guardsmen shifted their attention to the valet, and the leader said, "We'll escort Lieutenant Kel'Aniston."

  The valet nodded. "I will arrange to have the suite cleaned and aired, Friend Stavin." At Stavin's nod he walked away and the guardsmen indicated the other direction up the hallway.

  "This way, Lieutenant," the leader of the pair said, and Stavin fell in with them, though he couldn't match their stride. To their credit, once they realized that Stavin was struggling they slowed and shortened their pace to accommodate him.

  The guardsmen led Stavin down through the palace to a much rougher-hewn section of the building. The transition from opulence to utilitarianism was dramatic. Passing through one door was all it took. Stavin noticed that only guardsmen were present in this portion of the palace, and his presence was noted with intense curiosity by the men and women they passed.

  The guardsmen led him down a set of stairs to what could only be called a dungeon. Barred doors opened to either side of a dimly lit passageway, and from somewhere ahead of them came the sound of a man screaming. That sound echoed through the hall, and seemed to be coming from the door the guardsmen were leading him to.

  A guardsman opened the door as they approached, eyeing Stavin's cape curiously but not saying anything as he passed. The two men who were escorting him stopped outside the room.

  "Lieutenant Kel'Aniston," a deep voice said and Stavin's attention was drawn to General Zel'Kordil, "come over here."

  Stavin went to the general's side and came to attention. "Yes, Sir?"

  "I'd like a summary of the events in your suite this morning."

  Stavin gave the general a quick rundown of the action, remaining at attention the whole time. When he was done, the general turned away to look at the assassin.

  "He tried to claim that he was just there to tend the fire."

  Stavin looked up at the general and asked, "With a knife, Sir?"

  The general looked at Stavin and a grin seemed about to erupt at any moment. "I didn't say we believed him. No one knows who he is, and we can't trace his knife. A mage erased all traces of identification from it, and him."

  "I'm surprised he's still alive," Stavin said in a soft tone, but the general heard him. The man began screaming again as a bloody dressing was removed from his leg.

  "He shouldn't be. Once he failed, he should have taken his own life. He was supposed to take his own life, like the others did, fail or succeed." Stavin was looking up at the general with wide eyes. "He was spelled. It's quite likely that Lord Zel'Candan and his children were also spelled to act as they did, though no trace of a spell was found."

  "I didn't think--Why didn't he kill himself, Sir?" Stavin asked, looking at the man again.

  "Because of you and that lamp," the general replied, grinning now as he looked at Stavin. "Spells like that are hard to break, but the pain and terror of burning broke it. He also carried this." The general picked up a strange object from the table. "It was supposed to keep you asleep until he was done."

  Stavin swallowed hard and his hand crept up to touch his armor. "It was cold, so I kept my under padding on. I really don't like sleeping bare anywhere but at home anyway, Sir."

  Now it was the general's turn to be puzzled. "What difference did that make?" Stavin explained about the protection his armor provided, and the general nodded his understanding. "So you kept your dragon-made under padding on, and that saved you from the blade of an assassin." The general's expression turned sour as he said, "I wish we could get His Majesty to wear something like that."

  Stavin was prevented from answering by the assassin. As another dressing was being removed he began screaming again, then choking. He was writhing in pain on the table where several healers were tending him, then suddenly collapsed. The healers worked on him for a few more moments, then turned away.

  "What happened?" the general demanded of the group of healers, and one old man turned toward him with a sour expression on his face.

  "The pain and shock of his injuries appears to have been too much for his heart."

  "Damn," the general muttered. "He was our best lead to whoever is plotting against the king. Come with me, Lieutenant. It shouldn't be much more than five or six spans before dawn." He smiled down at Stavin. "I need some kay."

  Stavin said, "Yes, Sir," and fell in beside the general as they left the room.

  General Zel'Kordil led Stavin up through several levels of the palace before they reached a large room that was filled with long trestle tables. There were only a few men there, and their attention seemed to be absorbed in the plates of food in front of them. The general led Stavin to a serving line and grabbed a plate and mug.

  "Rank has its privileges," the general said conversationally, "but this early in the morning the stewards aren't up yet. Thank the Gods Above that the cooks are." He led Stavin down the line, holding out his plate to receive portions of the food he desired. Stavin limited himself to scrambled eggs, cubed white tubers fried with bacon and onions, and a short stack of pancakes.

  The general saw Stavin's selections and said, "I'd have thought you'd be eating a lot of meat, Lieutenant."

  Stavin's complexion paled a little more. "Not after the way that man smelled, Sir."

  The general considered that for a moment before shrugging and moving on. "These urns contain kava," he indicated the left-hand urn, "or kay," nodd
ing to the urn on the right.

  "Your pardon, Sir, but what is kay?" Stavin asked. "I've never heard of it before."

  "Kay? It's kava, but made very strong, with a bit of makanin bark in it. Powerful stuff if you're not used to it." The general was filling his mug with kay, and Stavin briefly considered it, but settled for plain old kava instead. The general then led him to a table and took a seat, indicating that Stavin should take the seat to his right.

  The general was concentrating on eating, so Stavin ate as well. He found the food to be far superior to anything he'd ever eaten, with the exception of his mother's cooking. He was devouring his pancakes when he heard a chuckle from the general.

  "Sir?"

  "Whatever else you are or may become, you're a normal teenager, Lieutenant. How old are you, anyway? I don't think I've ever heard."

  "Seventeen, Sir."

  The general considered that, then looked at the hollowed star on Stavin's shoulder. His only comment was, "Remarkable."

  Several other officers joined them then, and Stavin smiled when Lieutenant Zel'Fordal sat across from him. "You're up early, Lieutenant Kel'Aniston," he said with a smile.

  "We had some excitement this morning, Lieutenant," the general said before Stavin could reply. "Our new lieutenant just added another kill to his total." Every eye at the table was focused on the general now, and he gave them a brief summary of what had happened in the early morning. "We suspected that the plot went deeper than the Zel'Candans. Now we have proof."

  Lieutenant Zel'Fordal nodded to the general, then looked at Stavin. "How are you holding up, Lieutenant?"

  "I'm fine, Sir," Stavin replied between bites.

  "An assassin attacked you in your bed just a few spans ago, and you say you're fine? How can you be fine after something like that?" Lieutenant Zel'Fordal asked in a stunned whisper.