by Raven Oak
Of course. Ida had been Amaskan, too. Adelei nodded. “I thought to burn her body here, at home, but is it safe? The poison—”
“The milk stopped it, so the body should be safe enough. Just in case, I’d recommend we do this outside the city walls—maybe in an open field nearby.”
Outside the stall, half-awake stablehands chopped at the damaged wood and carried pieces of it away. “You recognized this poison,” Adelei said, eyes hardening. “You knew how to stop it. What is it? Tell me what you know, please.”
Ida sighed and leaned against the corner frame of the stall. “Bein’ so close to Shad, Alexandrians know much more of the Tribor than we do of Amaskans. There are rumors that they use dark and evil techniques to kill, unclean ways to damage a body and remove evidence of their murders. One way is through a thrice boiled plant said to grow only in the high reachin’ mountains of Shad. Something about this plant creates a bubblin’ plague that eats through most things.”
“But you knew how to stop it.”
“Yes.” Ida’s eyes darkened. “While on my first mission, my mark was a Tribor who’d killed a Duke. He used a similar poison cap to kill himself when I found ’em. The ooze burned down half the inn and killed several people before ’twas stopped, and then only ’cause it started rainin’. Rain doesn’t normally stop it. Not completely or anything, but this time, it poured so heavy that the rain washed most of it away. What I didn’t know at the time was that some of it ran into the town’s water well. People drank the stuff.”
Ida shuddered, her blue eyes haunted and lost as they stared at nothing. “A friend’s child touched what was left of her mother’s body, her screams bringin’ half the town to her door. In pain, the child knocked over her glass of milk while thrashin’ about, and when her burnin’ hand touched the milk—”
“—It stopped the poison.”
“Yes, it did. It’s called adenneith in Shadian. I’m not even sure there’s a word for it in Alexandrian, and I’m certain there’s not one in Sadain. I’m not even sure the order knows much about it.”
“Didn’t you report it on your return?” The chopping of wood had stopped, and the clopping of horse hooves sounded as horses were returned to the remaining stalls. Adelei gathered Midnight’s gear without looking too closely at it. She couldn’t.
Ida hefted Midnight’s saddle over her shoulder. “I did, but I don’t think they believed me all that much. My own brother swore there was nothin’ in the Order archives about such a poison, so they wrote it off as the overactive imagination of a journeyman.”
When Adelei stepped out of the stall, Midnight’s body had been removed, and she stared at the lightened stone where her battle steed had fallen. “I had them wrap him in burlap and haul him to the city gate. We can take him by cart to a field for burnin’ when ya wish, though I recommend sooner than later,” Ida said, and she followed Adelei through the stables.
“We’ll stow Midnight’s gear in my room until… well, a replacement won’t be sent. Not anymore.” Adelei rubbed her jaw with a finger. Outside, the air was quiet again, but hints of light called out across the horizon. Soon the morning sun would rise, and Adelei would report to the King about this latest attempt by the Tribor assassins.
And all too soon she’d be back to guarding her Royal Highness. No sleep tonight. Adelei wearily climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. Each step set her chin to rub against Midnight’s saddle blanket. The smell of horse and grass brought tears to her eyes. Soon though, she would find the person responsible for the mark.
Princess Margaret’s sitting room remained silent at this hour. A light snore bumped against the door and drifted through the cracks from Her Highness’s rooms. Adelei opened the door to her small room. The decorations from before were gone from the storage chest, and Adelei set Midnight’s gear inside. Ida passed her the saddle, which didn’t fit, and Adelei tucked it across the desk’s chair.
“Come, let’s go honor my horse before Her Royal Highness wakes to complain about lumpy beds and silly rules,” she said with more humor than she felt.
Let’s go honor my horse, who was more my family than my own sister. What does that say about me?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Heavy bags beneath sagging eyes told Adelei that King Leon hadn’t visited his bed either this night, now day. When she spoke of the attack, he hung his head. “I’m truly sorry about your horse,” he said. “But I like even less that another attack has been made on your life. Were you able to ascertain anything from this hired-thug before he killed himself?”
She shook her head. “He knew I’d try. This one came very prepared.”
When he raised an eyebrow, she spoke of the adenneith. “Your Majesty, it burned like nothing I’d ever seen before. If Ida hadn’t known how to stop it, I’m not sure it would have stopped at all until everything but the stone belly of the castle was left.”
“Would it have truly devoured everything?”
Adelei nodded. “It burned everything it touched except the stable’s stone floor, be it hay, wood, or… or horse. It certainly dissolved the Tribor’s body. I never even got to search his body properly.”
“You said Ida was familiar with this?” He summoned a page by hooking his finger. “Fetch Captain Warhammer.” To her he added, “We will wait for the captain to discuss this further.”
When he gestured for her to sit, she claimed a cushionless stool. Of several, it looked most stable. The corners poked her rear, and she shifted in place. If I didn’t know better, I’d say this was intentional to hurry along audiences with unwanted guests. Master Bredych had used this same trick.
Two men in two different kingdoms—yet an abundance of similarities between her two fathers, though neither would admit to such a connection. As much as it pained her, they were both her father.
She glanced up at the King’s face to find him watching her as well. If anything, he looked ten years older this morning. Familiar creases tripled in depth, especially those across his forehead as his brows tried to dig themselves deep into his pale skin.
Several squires and pages idled in the background of his audience chamber, giving them no privacy. For once, Adelei wished it, shifting the weight from one hip to the other and back again on the stool. I’d be willing to bet that’s why he hasn’t slept—the talk with Margaret. I don’t think that was a positive conversation.
Adelei itched to ask about it. I don’t need another reason for my sister to hate me. This job is difficult enough without the situation growing grimmer by the minute.
The rear doors opened, and Captain Warhammer closed the distance quickly before bowing to the King. “You called for me, Your Majesty?”
“I did, Captain. Master Adelei tells me of a… a poison that is a great danger to my kingdom. I would hear your knowledge on this subject.” Tired eyes grew bleak as Ida divulged what knowledge she held. Adelei watched them from the discomfort of her stool.
When Ida spoke, the King leaned forward in his chair, and his gaze followed her every move. When speaking to him, Ida’s voice softened, though with the gravel-like timbre of her voice, not even when soft could her voice be described as delicate or feminine.
The way their eyes lit up and the corners of their mouths danced with each word made Adelei nod. Ida spoke the truth about their relationship. He loves the woman who kidnapped me. And she loves a deceptive fool.
The mix of pain and joy pierced her armor. It was a relief when Ida finished, and King Leon turned his attention to Adelei. “Do you think this was an isolated use of the poison? Something he used when backed into a corner?”
“Normally, I would think this what it appeared to be—a last minute, desperate tactic to escape capture. But with the closeness to the wedding, I can only think it’s not. They intend to stop me any way necessary as long as I am here.”
“But why? What is so important—” Adelei stared at her father, and his words fell from his mouth as understanding spread across his face.
“
I am a danger to Her Highness and Your Majesty as long as I remain here.”
It was a truth they both knew, and yet the father bled through the King. “You cannot leave. I—”
Adelei held up her hand and gestured at the others still in the room. “I can’t leave because doing so would leave Her Highness in danger as well. Even if I left, I would not take all of the danger with me. Besides, I think they are more concerned with me stopping the wedding than my protecting the royal family. That poison comes out of Shad, which can’t be a coincidence, Your Highness.”
“You believe the rumors about a plot by the Shadian royal family to seize my crown?” When Adelei tilted her head in the servants’ direction, King Leon clapped his hands once. The servants and pages withdrew and shut the doors behind them.
“I’ve already told you what Lady Millicent disclosed to me. I find it much more likely that she is correct. Why else the need to stop me? If all they wished was me dead, send enough assassins and even an Amaskan will get unlucky. Most of the time, the Amaskans and Tribor ignore each other. There’s nothing to be gained by starting a war between the two groups, but now I’m endangering their plans for Her Highness. If she doesn’t wed Prince Gamun, they have no way to continue their scheme. But something the Tribor let slip—he wasn’t after me.”
“Explain.”
“He had a picture of what I assumed was me, but he claimed it wasn’t. He seemed rather shocked when I held the picture up to my face and it matched.”
The chair creaked as Ida leaned forward. “Are ya sayin’ he’s after Her Highness? But that makes no sense with your theory.”
“They can’t want the wedding and want her dead. We’re missing something.” King Leon leaned his chin on the palm of his hand, his elbow burying itself in the cushion of his chair’s arm.
“I wish I knew what, but right now we’re all in danger,” said Adelei.
King Leon cleared his throat. “I wonder if they changed their minds. Maybe you were getting to close to something? Do you also believe what they say about Prince Gamun’s… proclivities?”
“I wish I could give you peace of mind and answer no, but I can’t. I believe it possible. Until I meet him, I can’t say it for fact.”
“I’ve heard the rumors as well, Your Majesty, but I’ve not seen any evidence of their truth,” said Ida. “But then, I’ve been in Sadai more than Alexander these days, so I may not be the best person to ask.”
The mask wavered, and the King returned. “Master Adelei, you will have that opportunity as I’m told the Prince should arrive here tomorrow. With the wedding in little more than a month, we have little time to gather evidence, not if we wish to cancel the treaty.”
“And if you’re to do so, you’ll need solid evidence to go before the Boahim Senate,” added Ida.
“Indeed.”
King Leon stood and walked over to where Adelei sat on the increasingly uncomfortable stool. He knelt before her, his hand brushing her cheek. “What a wise and strong daughter you have grown to be,” he whispered. “Can you find me the evidence I need and keep yourself safe? It’s not worth losing you again. Surely we can figure something out.”
His trust in her abilities was humbling. His love for her was crushing. Even as a killer, he’s found a way to love me. Not the daughter he envisioned, but me. Master Adelei of Amaska. Her mind still separated the father from the King—it had to. The King I can forgive, but the father I can’t. Marry the two, and where does that leave me? And yet here he is, having loved me anyway—doing what I cannot.
It chafed and ached at the same time. Adelei stumbled away from his touch, knocking over the stool. His pain drove her to stare at the floor as she bowed before him. “I will do my duty to the Kingdom of Alexander, as I have sworn to do. I will find the evidence Your Majesty requires. But I will find it, however I have to, and I’ll not have a care for anyone’s sensibilities or rank.”
The Captain stood stiffly and leaned between the King and Adelei, her hand on her blade’s hilt.
“Peace, old friend.” King Leon met Ida’s gaze. “She’s only reminding me of the folly of my own design. Having you fake an attack on Margaret it seems has brought a real threat to our door.”
Adelei said, “Wishes are fishes. Once caught—”
“—They are forever changed,” Captain Warhammer finished. “He only meant to bring ya home, but I understand your meanin’.”
“As do I, Master Adelei. Watch the Prince and get me the evidence I need. You are dismissed.” King Leon peered right through her then. The unfocused stare shifted around her, to settle on anything except the person before him.
She bowed slightly before retreating. How long could she maintain balance? Adelei barged into the sitting room she shared with Princess Margaret. Who was she kidding? She kicked a floor pillow as she passed on the way to her room.
Empty and cold, she huddled beneath the blankets on her bed. She allowed herself that moment to finally respond to the chaos, and like a breached dam, the emotions poured forth.
She wanted to cry, then stab something until it died. Adelei propped up a pillow and casually tossed a throwing knife at its center. Once upon a time, there lived a princess. The next throw was not so casual, and a pillow exploded with a mass of goose feathers.
The princess was loved, until she was whisked away to a faraway land. She was loved and taught the way of things by her new family—the balance of life and self. Until she was abandoned again.
Adelei tossed another knife at yet another pillow, though this one resisted her assassination attempt with aplomb. Lost, she stumbled around in a maze made of uneven ground and waterfalls. Her balance destroyed, she hid herself away in her rooms to assassinate pillows. Damn you all.
Equal parts frustration and self-loathing, she leaned her head against the wall and cried.
“Ida—a moment if you will.”
Leon scribbled bits of nothing on the parchment before him. He had nothing important to say, only that at this moment, he couldn’t look at her. In the past twenty-four hours, he’d defended her, touched her, and loved her again, all while his brain urged him to cast her aside and be done with the traitor.
Her return with his daughter was wonderful.
Her return and his forgiveness were nothing short of a miracle.
So why couldn’t he face her?
“Sire?”
By the sound of her voice, she stood behind him. Damn. She probably had seen the scribbling mess he made with this ink. Leon set the feather pen down on his desk.
“I need you to run an errand.”
“Fetch ya another sheet of parchment?” she asked, and the corners of his mouth lifted against his will.
When he turned, she was close enough that the scabbard of her sword brushed against his knees, and he inhaled deeply of the scent that was uniquely hers. Sweat, flecks of steel, and the tiniest amount of lilies.
“Your thoughts are far away this early mornin’.”
It wasn’t that her words were a whisper; more that he was so far away just then, the sound reaching out to him from a hundred leagues. “I’m sorry, Ida. Too many creatures walk my mind, too many not of my own making.”
She nodded. “What do ya need?”
Leon memorized her face. If he never saw her again, he wanted to remember it. Just as it was—every wrinkle and scar. “I need you to set out for the Shadian border as soon as you can ride. I must know if these tales about the Prince are true. Something factual. Anyone who can testify to the rumors’ validity.”
“The prince will arrive sometime tomorrow or the next day,” she said.
“I know, which is why I need you to leave today. I’d prefer he not cross you on the road into Alesta. Further out among those traveling the Meridi Pass, you’ll hardly be recognized in the throngs, but at the city gates, everyone knows you. Leave now. Spend no longer than a month away or send word of whatever you find before the wedding.”
“As ya wish, Your Majesty.”
Leon was the first to break eye contact, and she pulled away from his grasp. Her footfalls were heavier than normal as she retreated. “Wait,” he called out, but she’d already fled the room.
Neither of them was ready for things to be normal between them. But maybe, once all of this was behind them, they could find their way back to one another.
No candlelight left the windowless room pitch black. Adelei thought it night until her sister’s scream reached her. The near hysteria spurred Adelei forward. She paused at the door when the cries grew less shrill. No sounds of an assassin—just a fight different from what she expected.
“I can’t possibly wear that. He’s arriving today, and I have to be per-fect,” Princess Margaret shouted, stretching out the last word as her voice jumped half an octave.
I wasn’t asleep long enough. With a sigh, Adelei propped the murdered pillows across her bed and rose. A splash of water from a bowl woke her, and Adelei redid the scarf about her head. One deep breath later, and she stood before the doors to Margaret’s suite.
Probably shut because of the tantrum inside. Several guards stood nearby, slack expressions speaking out that this was nothing new. Every time Margaret’s voice jumped, their eyes glazed over a little more.
I would pity them, but at least they get some break throughout the day from her, whereas I might not. She strode into the room bearing her chaotic sister. Without knocking.
Her sister stood behind a screen with several of her handmaidens, all of whom were pulling and tugging at something while Margaret swatted at their hands. “Tighter,” she ordered, and several grunts passed through the room as the servants continued their quest. When Adelei let the door shut with a loud clatter, all motion ceased behind the screen, and Margaret’s head poked out around the corner.
“I ordered the guards that no one was to enter.”