The Hidden Sun (Bariwon Chronicles Book 1)

by J. Lloyd Morgan

“Thank you all for coming, although it seems the weather gives you few options for travel today,” Eliana began.

  The setup was the same as for the previous day’s court, with the exception of Eliana’s attendance. She sat up straight in her throne, dressed in a warm but regal gown.

  “Thank you for allowing me an extra day of mourning,” she said graciously. “Court will now continue.”

  Abrecan coughed into his hand. “Pardon me, Your Highness, but until we conclude the investigation, there is no more to discuss. You need not worry about the unpleasant details—the men are taking care of it.”

  Eliana’s response matched the chill in the air. “Councilor Abrecan, it was my father and grandfather who were killed in the attack. I have a vested interest in the subject at hand. In addition, I am the queen, and it is my responsibility to preside over court when it is held.”

  “Be that as it may,” Abrecan said, “there isn’t anything to discuss. We’ve taken care of everything that can be done to this point.”

  “Including throwing Governor Elric in the dungeon?”

  “The attacks happened in Lewyol. Elric is responsible for that district, and he is being held, yes.”

  Addressing the rest of the members in the hall, Eliana said, “And the king and queen are responsible for what happens in Bariwon. Since the attacks happened in Bariwon, does that mean we should be thrown into the dungeon as well?”

  “Don’t be absurd,” Abrecan scoffed.

  “Then why is Governor Elric in the dungeon?”

  Speaking in a voice one would use while talking to a small child, Abrecan said, “Your Highness, evidence points to the governor’s involvement. I believe it is best to keep him detained until we can prove he is guilty. The king agrees with me, so the matter is settled.”

  For a moment, Eliana didn’t respond. She looked around the hall, judging the reaction of those in attendance. Several in the audience avoided her gaze, while others looked at her with anticipation.

  Eliana motioned toward the Hierarchy of Magistrates. In a firm, unwavering voice, she said, “Magistrate Seanan, please see that Governor Elric is removed from the dungeon. Take him to a room in the castle and keep him guarded, but make sure he is fed and kept warm. In addition, please find Captain Wayte and beg him to return. Offer our apologies. We’ll need his help to find out who was behind the attacks.”

  “What?” Abrecan bellowed. “There is no need! I’m already sending Magistrate Caldre to look into the matter. Wayte has resigned! You can’t do that!”

  Giving him a hard stare, Eliana said, “I believe I just did, Councilor Abrecan.”

  “Your Highness, you are obviously still not thinking straight. It is understandable, due to recent events. But the decisions have already been made with the king’s approval,” Abrecan countered.

  Eliana refused to back down. “According to the Tome of Laws, the heir to the throne has the final say when there are disagreements. I have taken your opinion under advisement, and I disagree with it. Now that we’ve established that point, I do not expect to have to remind you in the future. Is that clear?”

  “But—”

  “Councilor Abrecan, is that clear?” Eliana asked, her voice as loud and strong as it had been all day.

  Abrecan’s response was to fold his arms, scowl, and give an almost imperceptible nod.

  ***

  Caldre tightened the knot on his ponytail, pulling his raven black hair tight against his head. There wasn’t anything wrong with the ponytail before, but Caldre found himself fiddling with it when he was anxious.

  He had worked for Abrecan for many years, and during that time, he had seen the former governor get angry, but today was different. Today Abrecan was humiliated, not only by a woman, but in front of a large crowd of important people. In the past, Abrecan had shouted and acted out physically. The quiet and cold manner Caldre saw now was something new, and he wasn’t sure how to react to it.

  They had been sitting in silence for the past several minutes. Caldre had come to the councilor’s room as he did every night, to discuss the day’s events and to plan for the future. Tonight when Caldre was ushered in, Abrecan hadn’t said anything. He merely sat at the room’s only table, folded his arms, and stared off into nothingness.

  Caldre began several times to speak, but the words caught in his throat. He didn’t want to further anger the man sitting across from him, so he sat and waited.

  “It’s unfortunate, really,” Abrecan said, finally breaking the silence.

  Caldre jumped a bit when the councilor spoke, and hoped he hadn’t noticed. “What’s unfortunate?”

  Abrecan turned his head and looked Caldre in the eyes, though the faraway look remained. “She’s really quite lovely. It will be a shame to have her killed after she gives birth to my grandchild.” Abrecan sighed in what seemed to be frustration. “However, we need to proceed carefully. The queen will be very careful after the attacks on her family. She doesn’t go anywhere without her personal guardian.” Abrecan stared off into space again. “You should have seen Guardian Rinan during the attack. He’s quite formidable. While he’s around, it will be hard to get to the queen.”

  “So we need to remove Rinan from the picture,” Caldre said.

  “And there is more.” Abrecan’s voice was still distant. “My son was an embarrassment today. He just sat there during court, not saying anything. It made him look weak. When he looks weak, I look weak. We need to show the people he is someone to be feared.”

  Caldre thought for a moment. Various plots popped into his mind only to be dismissed after a flaw was discovered. He needed to get rid of Rinan while at the same time making the king look strong—and he had to do it without the action being traced back to Abrecan. But how?

  A moment of inspiration struck and Caldre’s eyes lit up. “I have an idea.”

  CHAPTER 7

  Vashti knelt on the floor, hemming a new gown for Eliana, who did her best to hold still. The silver needle slid unexpectedly through the fabric, pricking Vashti’s finger. “Ouch!” the seamstress exclaimed.

  Looking back over her shoulder, Eliana asked, “Are you all right, Vashti?”

  The elderly lady wrapped her finger in some spare fabric that was close by. “Oh, yes, yes. No need to worry about old Vashti, Your Highness. It seems my age is starting to catch up to me. It’s been a long while since I’ve pricked myself. I’ll be fine. Let’s finish up here.”

  “If you’re sure…”

  “Yes, yes. I’m fine. Let’s change the subject. Have you heard from Captain Wayte yet?” Vashti asked, returning to the hem.

  Eliana looked out the window. A recent blizzard had stopped and moved on, and in its place the sun shone down on the white-covered kingdom. “Not yet. As you know, it took us a while to find him once he left. He’s been in Lewyol for nearly two months. I was happy he agreed to come back. I believe he returned primarily to conduct the investigation. If anyone can find out who killed my family, it will be him.”

  Vashti clucked in agreement. “Yes, yes, he’s a good man. Have you and your husband come up with names for the child yet?”

  Before she caught herself, Eliana almost said that Rinan wasn’t sure about a name. Even after all these months, she struggled when people referred to Daimh as her husband. “To be honest, I’ve not seen much of the king, or his father, for that matter, for a couple of months, although I have heard they are planning to attend the upcoming sparring contest.”

  “Yes, yes, they will be there. Of that I’m sure.”

  “Oh, and how do you know?”

  Vashti laughed lightly. “I promised to keep it a secret, Your Highness. The king has a surprise for you.”

  “Hmm. I’m not sure I’m in the mood for surprises.” Eliana smoothed out her dress in front of her. “I’m a bit nervous about having a sparring contest after the tragedy, but word has it that several guardians have requested that we start them back up. I understand the people’s need for distraction and de
sire to return to familiar events, but I’d feel better if Captain Wayte was back with his findings first.”

  “Oh, I think you’ll see it is the right choice. But remember, I promised to keep it a secret.” Vashti stood up. Turning the queen around, she admired her work. “Yes, yes. That’s better. It looks like I need to get to work on making some more dresses for you. The baby is getting so big now. Where has the time gone? It’s almost hard to believe in a month we’ll have a new prince or princess.”

  ***

  The hall was filled to bursting for the sparring contest. It was customary for a member of the royalty to select the contestants. Usually, the victor from the previous week was chosen to battle against a new contender. At times, the victor was on assignment, so the king or queen would decide who would get the honor of competing. Queen Eliana had made the opening remarks to the crowd and was about to announce the contestants when the king interrupted her.

  In a loud, powerful voice, Daimh addressed the crowd. “This is the first sparring contest held since the tragedy that fell upon Bariwon. To show you all that the kingdom is in good hands, I am going to participate. It will be an honor for you to witness such an event.”

  Before Eliana could respond, the crowd roared enthusiastically. Normally, only royal guardians sparred in the contest, although there had been the rare occasion when a visitor, like a governor or one of the guardians assigned to the various districts, participated.

  King Daimh smiled. “I take it you all approve.” Another cheer came in response.

  Taking off his fur-lined cape, Daimh revealed that he had dressed for the occasion. Although his clothing was similar in style to what guardians wore on days of the sparring contest, it had been trimmed with silver and crimson embroidery down the sleeves. Eliana noticed the trim was Vashti’s work. It was obvious Daimh had been planning on competing for a while—long enough to commission the work from the seamstress.

  After walking to the center of the combat area, the king stopped, turned to the crowd, and said, “In addition, I am going to allow you to choose my opponent. Suggestions?”

  The crowd erupted, with people shouting names to the king. After cupping a hand to one ear dramatically, Daimh said, “Ah, I hear Royal Guardian Rinan’s name quite a bit. Then Rinan it shall be.”

  The room had been abuzz with excitement before, but this statement added fuel to an already blazing fire. Rinan had never been defeated in these weekly contests—and he had been a favorite of the crowd.

  Eliana wanted to protest but knew if she did, it would hurt all that she had done in the last few days to raise the spirits of her people. Instead, she turned to Rinan, who was already preparing himself. She noticed his gray eyes were filled with determination. Before he could head down the stairs of the dais, Eliana grabbed his arm.

  She whispered, “Rinan, be careful. I’m not sure what they’re up to, but it can’t be good.”

  Not taking his eyes off Daimh, Rinan replied in a low voice that only she could hear. “Don’t worry. I won’t hurt him…well, maybe a little.”

  ***

  Rinan was in trouble, and he knew it.

  There was a saying in Lebu about situations where any option led to an undesired result: “Sometimes when climbing a tall tree to escape a bear, you can find yourself stuck with no way down.”

  When he first heard his name selected to compete against the king, he felt a swell of energy. He wanted very much to knock the smugness off Daimh’s face. But in grabbing the wooden broadsword that was used in sparring, he remembered the lesson Eliana had taught him the night he confronted Daimh. Although he wanted very much to take out his frustrations on the king, he knew he had to be careful. Abrecan had obviously planned this out, although Rinan wasn’t sure to what end.

  His mind raced as he took his place on the floor. If he won, how would Abrecan twist it to his advantage? Perhaps the councilor could say that Rinan wasn’t respectful or had hurt the king enough that he should be removed as a guardian. But if he lost, Abrecan might claim Rinan was too weak and shouldn’t be protecting the queen. Unsure which way to proceed, Rinan figured he’d best turn his full attention to the tall man standing in front of him, who at the moment seemed very bear-like.

  “Begin!” Eliana commanded.

  Daimh raised his sword and took three purposeful steps forward, swinging at Rinan. In defense, Rinan parried the cut, but the sheer force of the blow nearly knocked him off his feet. Instead, he took a step back, giving up ground to keep his balance.

  The king kept advancing, with Rinan doing his best to fend off the blows. For the first few moments, he was completely on the defensive. He knew Daimh was strong and had studied swordplay for much of his life.

  After a few more blows, Rinan realized that the king wasn’t treating the situation as only a sparring contest. Daimh kept taking swipes at Rinan’s head and midsection rather than attempting to take advantage when he was off balance. One exchange of blows brought the two combatants close together. In a low voice, Rinan said, “Your Majesty, the object is to knock your opponent off his feet.”

  With a feral grin, Daimh said, “If you’re unconscious, you’ll be off your feet.” He shoved Rinan hard in the chest.

  The shove pushed Rinan several feet away. The king angled his sword low and moved forward while starting an upward swing. Rinan’s memory sparked from when Eadward had used a similar tactic. He maneuvered his sword to parry the blow so both swords were above their heads. The parry worked, and Rinan found himself in the position he wanted. Pivoting his hips, he brought up a leg and kicked Daimh as hard as he could in the stomach.

  The effect was not what Rinan had hoped or expected. The sensation was much like kicking a stone wall. Stunned by the result, his attention lapsed long enough for Daimh to twist his wrists and wrench the sword out of Rinan’s grasp.

  The large wooden sword clattered to the ground by Daimh’s feet. Kicking the sword across the floor out of Rinan’s reach, Daimh shouted, “Yield now!”

  Rinan took a few steps back. “No, I don’t think I will.”

  Turning to the crowd, Daimh shouted, “This is the man who is supposed to protect your queen! He lacks the judgment to know when he is beaten. Do you feel she is safe while in his care?”

  While the king’s attention was diverted, Rinan ran to the closest wall. The crowd parted, allowing him in. He jumped up and removed one of the banners that lined the hall. Next, he unlatched the cloth that displayed the standard of Bariwon and handed it to a spectator, then walked back to the combat area carrying an eight-foot staff of solid wood.

  Daimh turned to face Rinan and said, “What do you think you are doing?”

  Rinan held the staff in front of him. “I’m finishing this contest.”

  Grabbing the hilt of his sword with both hands, Daimh laughed and started toward Rinan. Instead of trying to stop the blows the king offered, Rinan batted them away. Using the longer reach of the staff, he counterattacked by smacking Daimh across the shins and back.

  Daimh’s attacks became more furious, making them easier for Rinan to counter—and offering more openings to exploit. After a particularly wild swing, Rinan cracked Daimh across the hands, causing him to drop his sword. Using the end of the staff, Rinan pushed the sword out of Daimh’s reach.

  Watching Daimh nurse his hands, Rinan asked, “Do you yield?”

  The king responded with a growl, then charged Rinan. The guardian side-stepped and ducked under the lunge, tripping Daimh with the staff as he passed. The king’s balance was compromised and he sprawled forward. Rinan stood and spun, and swinging the staff as hard as he could, spanked the king across his backside. The blow was enough to cause Daimh to fall flat on his face.

  He moved to stand up when Eliana declared, “Enough! The contest is complete!”

  Daimh turned and glared at her, then pointed to Rinan and roared, “He cheated!”

  “Royal Guardian Rinan came up with another way to win the fight, one which didn’t violate t
he rules, which is why he is the perfect man to be my personal guardian,” Eliana said not only to Daimh, but to the rest of the crowd as well.

  Councilor Abrecan moved down to where his son stood. Gesturing to Rinan, he said, “You’ve made a mockery out of this contest.” Then Abrecan took his son by the arm and stormed out of the hall.

  ***

  Rinan rotated his arm, trying to ease some of the pain in his shoulder.

  “Are you sure you will be all right?” Eliana asked.

  He nodded. “Yes, I’ll be fine. One thing about Daimh—he’s very strong.”

  “Let’s get you back to our room and have Anemone take a look at it anyway, just to be safe.”

  Rinan agreed, and the young couple headed for the staircase that led to the third floor. Upon reaching it, they both noticed Abrecan standing at the top, with his arms folded and a scowl on his face.

  Ascending the stairs, Eliana asked, “Is something the matter, Councilor?”

  Abrecan pointed at Rinan. “I want him removed from the castle.”

  “Oh?” Eliana said, her voice strong. “And why is that?”

  “The king’s reputation was quite damaged by today’s events,” Abrecan said, staring hard at Eliana. “The king is very sensitive about how he is perceived by the people. Removing Rinan will go a long way in repairing Daimh’s image.”

  “And on what grounds would you have my personal guardian removed?” Eliana continued to climb with Rinan behind her.

  “On what grounds?” Abrecan threw his arms up in disgust. “How can you even ask that? After what he did today to the king, I should have him thrown in the dungeon. I’ll settle for just having him resign.”

  Reaching the top of the stairs, Eliana said firmly, “Councilor Abrecan, Rinan did nothing against the rules. I confirmed this with the Hierarchy of Magistrates after the contest. No one forced Daimh to compete—he said it was his idea. I’m sorry your son was embarrassed, but that isn’t grounds to have a guardian removed.”