by Dawn Peers
Maertn threw a stick into the fire, not meeting Ross’s worried gaze. The young man looked frustrated. “That’s not what I mean, Ross. What if something…happens? What if they take me away from her? And you from us? I mean forcibly. What if…you say they try to sell gifted people? Well, that isn’t voluntary, is it? What if one of us is kidnapped? Or if they see Quinn as useful, and me not, so I’m just discarded? What can we do about that?”
Ross considered this, and wished he had an ale to mull it over. It was a genuine concern, but it wasn’t anything he could respond to, nor do anything about. He thought about lying to the young lad, but that would go completely against what he’d already said to Maertn. He couldn’t expect from them what he couldn’t deliver. “You are right, any of those things could happen. Or they could not. I don’t know how the council is going to react to Quinn. Even worse, I don’t know how she will react to them. But I do know that I will put myself and my blades between her and anyone tries to hurt her, or you.”
“I believe you. It’s everyone else that I’m worried about.”
13
Eden splashed icy cold water over his face, trying to wake himself up in time for the meeting. He hadn’t slept at all the night before, after discussing Sevenspells strategy with Rowan, and Quinn’s face had haunted his dreams, in turns taunting him and giving him nightmares.
In one, she had been laughing in his face, holding on to Maertn tight and kissing him deeply as Eden watched on, unable to move. In other dreams, Sammah had been strangling her. She was screaming in his head, and he’d been unable to move again, incapable of helping her. In yet another dream, she’d thrown herself from the top of the castle, screaming his name as she plummeted from the parapet. He woke up in a cold sweat from that one, and had been unable and unwilling to try and sleep since. Eden were sure that he looked like a complete wreck, but he had to keep it together in order to keep the charade for both the king and his brother intact.
This meeting was critical for Vance to get solidarity from the lords that remained loyal to him, and also for Eden to show his brother—and therefore his father—that he was a Sevenspells son. There was no room for tiredness, and no place for complacency. His involvement in the trapping of Sammah was about to come out. He still needed to seem loyal to Sevenspells, despite condemning his father to Vance’s custody. Eden would need to choose his words carefully, if both Vance and Rowan were to keep believing he was their man.
A knock at his door came; Eden had been expecting it.
“Enter.”
“Excuse me, my lord, you’re requested in the king’s chambers.”
“Thank you. I’ll be there directly.”
The page, a boy, perhaps no older than ten, who Eden didn’t recognise, dashed out of the room. Running one final hand over his chin, making sure there was still a show of stubble there; enough to make him look like a man amongst other men, Eden left his quarters. The king was holding the meeting in his own chambers, and Eden didn’t want to be intimidated by this, or by the other nobles who would be present.
It was important that he stood head and shoulders above them, not just alongside them. He’d already won King Vance’s respect, now he needed to earn it in the face of the other lords, in order to keep himself safe, and in a position to protect Quinn in the future. He also need to be able to think of his father, and protect the interests of Sevenspells.
Eden loved Quinn, but he loved his people too, and he couldn’t help Quinn if she was across the seas in Sha’sek. As he walked through the corridors, he fell in step with the lord Venn. He was a vocal man, and wouldn’t be holding back in their meeting. He was in his lord’s finery, and immediately Eden felt self-conscious. Eden looked down at his own captain’s uniform, which was the only finery he had to hand. He still looked the part. He’d worn parade attire rather than the gear he’d use fighting and guarding the streets. Brown leather riding boots were pulled up and laced tight over his breeches. His tunic, in the green and gold of Sevenspells, was clean and starched, and he had his sword belted at his waist, his scabbard spotless and the hilt gleaming. He’d even gone so far as to put on his thin chainmail, the links forged from the finest steel, sourced from the mines north of Mossvale. Eden felt the part, and knew that, in his current standing, he looked it. But he was unnerved that the bags under his eyes made him looked panicked, and his hair was already dishevelled because he had been running his fingers through the thick strands.
Venn, much to Eden’s disgust, looked every inch the lord he was. He wore delicate boots, not hardy riding ones, and his fine trousers were belted in leather and gold. The tunic was embroidered with careful roses, the emblem chosen by his wife, not of his house. Around his neck was a fine fox pelt; the animal was his nod to the arms of Daggerdale.
“Eden, isn’t it?”
Eden tried not to bristle. Venn knew perfectly well who he was. “Yes my lord, is there anything you need?”
“No, just a question. I hear you’re attending this meeting with us. Why is that?”
Eden shrugged, trying to look nonplussed and comfortable in conversation with a man like Lord Venn. “I’m not sure my lord. I assume Vance is going to perhaps mention Sammah, or mention the trial? I will have to be present for any judgement of course, so it would make sense that I’d be there for any announcements the king wishes to make.”
Venn frowned, and Eden realised from his eyes that the lord didn’t believe a single word he’d said. “Vance is it? Not your highness? Not our liege? You sound very familiar with the man who is meant to be ruling us all, I must say.”
Eden had the sense to blush. “I’m sorry my lord, I thought you were speaking casually. Of course my respect is with his highness.”
Venn laughed, and it was a cruel noise. He pushed Eden, and the lad staggered sideways, nearly knocking into the wall. “I’m just playing with you lad. You look like you’re about to choke, calm down. I’m a good friend of your father. What’s happening to him is unjust. It’s all lies. We both know that, and we both know that Lord Shiver is going to be getting out of this with his titles and lands intact, don’t we?”
Eden sensed that this was more of a statement than a question, but he muttered his assent anyway. He didn’t want to start making enemies before the meeting started, because he knew perfectly well he’d have some by the time it finished. The position of chamberlain was one of honour in any castle, never mind being the chamberlain for the king himself. Many nobles had coveted this position when it was likely they would never take lands of their own. Vance had told him how unhappy he’d made the court when he’d appointed Ross to the position, so the fact that Eden was going to take the post now would raise more than a few eyebrows.
Venn tried to bait Eden more on the way to the meeting, but Eden stayed cagey and silent. By the time they reached the king’s chambers, Eden was certain that Venn was beginning to hate him. Eden had to ignore what others thought of him. Ross couldn’t have cared, if he was so derided. There was more at stake here than his feelings. Eden had to keep in mind that Venn was one of his father’s closest allies and friends. Eden made a mental note to speak to Rowan about this, to make sure that he wasn’t going to be acting at cross purposes with any of his brother’s alliances.
The closer they got to the doors, the more Eden’s heart started to pound. He gave Venn a nervous glance, convinced the lord should be able to hear it hammering against his ribs. His palms were becoming sweaty and hot, but he resisted the urge to wipe them down on his clothes. He raised his hands to his hair, and ran two fingers past his temples for what felt like hundredth time that day. After realising what he’d done, Eden rammed his hands into fists and put them by his sides. The lord would be watching him, he knew, and had gotten a close look just then. Eden hadn’t wanted to appear nervous, but he was a complete wreck in front of a man that he wanted to be an equal. He forced himself to take a few deep breaths, and in a brief moment of solace, Eden noticed Venn didn’t look completely at ease himself.
Three guards stood either side of the chamber door, halberds gripped to attention and faced forward. A page stood to the left, announcing the lords as they arrived, so the guards could open the doors. Eden was pensive as the page read off Venn’s name, though to his relief, his name was announced next. His irrational fears about this being a game for the king; that he’d be laughed at and thrown out, were so far unfounded. Nervous, trying not to look around wildly as he walked through the door, Eden exhaled with relief when he realised that he and Venn were the first two to arrive. Vance, obviously, was already in his own suite, but he wasn’t seated. Instead, he was standing at a high-arched window, his hands clasped behind his back, looking down over his city.
In the centre of the huge room was a grey stone table, surrounded by thickly-carved oak chairs. There were enough seats for Vance, the ruling lords of the provinces, and one accompanying aide for each. There would be, therefore, a proper seat for Eden. He was relieved; he didn’t want to be standing and drawing more attention than he cared to get. It was going to be bad enough when Vance announced his new appointment.
“Your highness,” the page intoned clearly as they entered the room. Eden was jealous of how confident the boy sounded. “Lord Venn of Daggerdale and Captain Eden of Sevenspells are here for you.”
Vance turned, opening his arms in greeting to them both. “Venn, welcome. Please, do take your seat. Do you need anything? Wine? Food?”
“No, my liege, thank you. It’s too early for me. Is it going to be a long meeting?”
Vance shook his head, “I hope not. Some necessary formalities with everything that’s been going on. I have to keep you all informed of what’s happening with Lord Shiver and the Baron Sammah.”
Venn nodded thoughtfully. “Of course your highness, and, if I might add my voice to no doubt countless others; how glad I am that you come out of this unscathed.”
“The unscathed part remains to be seen, though my rule remains intact. Welcome, Eden. Can the servants get you anything? You look a bit queasy.”
Eden gaped, mortified that the king had drawn attention to his nerves. Venn slapped Eden firmly on the shoulder, saving him from floundering. “Of course he’s queasy, your highness, he’s attending his first meeting with the lords of the provinces, and his father is in the gaol. He’s the one who helped put him there. Whilst the lad is a hero, I’m not sure I’d want to be riding in his boots right now.”
Eden wanted to wince at Venn’s words, but his reaction to them was mixed. It was true, he was nervous to be in this meeting, but he was positive that he deserved to be here. He wasn’t sure at all how he felt about his father’s position. Eden did want to know just how much sincerity was behind his well-wishing. He wouldn’t be surprised if Venn had been part of Shiver’s plans from the start.
No matter what Venn’s intentions, Vance seemed to take it all in good heart. “Yes, of course you’re anxious. You’re only young, and court can be overwhelming. Here Eden, drink something to calm your nerves.”
“Erm, I’m not sure that’s wise, my liege?” Eden stuttered.
“Don’t be ridiculous man. If I order you to drink, are you going to tell me no?”
Eden was trapped, and he didn’t like it. He was reasonably sure both of them were toying with them. Unfortunately, the king was right. If he was ordered to have a drink, could Eden actually say no? “I will have some wine, thank you, your highness.”
Vance grinned and hollered and a servant, not a page, came scuttling forward with a carafe. A glass was poured, and Eden took it with a shaking hand. Perhaps the wine would do him some good, after all.
“I thought you were your father’s son. I’m sure he would have gone for the ale first.”
Eden hoped that Venn was still being playful, and ventured a jovial response. “Given why we’re here, my lord, I don’t think our king wants another Lord Shiver walking around his court right now.”
Vance practically roared, throwing his head back and slapping at his stomach. Venn didn’t look quite so impressed, a very thin smirk edging the corner of his mouth, and Eden were sure that this would get back to either his father or his brother. He had his cover story, though; he was trying to get in league with the king, and at the moment speaking against a man who had betrayed him would be a very simple way of pushing an alliance forward. Even if that traitor happened to be his own father.
“Come on, Venn, force a smile on that sour face of yours. You didn’t think that was funny?”
Venn laughed nervously. “Of course your highness, it’s just that I feel this matter is so serious. I don’t think we should make light of the situation. I especially don’t think Shiver’s kin should be doing it.” There was a very dangerous edge to Venn’s words Eden didn’t miss. The meeting hadn’t even started, and he’d made his first enemy. It was going to be a long day.
Eden waited, standing awkwardly whilst the king and Venn continued their small talk. Venn was trying to paint other lords into corners with what might have been knowledge or gossip, and Eden was given a sore reminder of how experienced he was in this deadly dance of words at court.
He listened carefully to their words, trying to keep up with the gist of their stories, their opinions and stances, and the way their eyes told the truth behind the words that came out of their mouths. Venn’s eyes always gave him away; Eden could see that clearly. The king could see it too, with the way his body reacted, twisting away sometimes, facing Venn fully at others, depending on what lie the lord was crafting. So many people spoke about the king like he was a headless buffoon, and whilst it took a blend of luck and malice for Vance both get to stay on the throne, to keep it for so long with wolves like his father circling, had to take some level of character.
They were posturing now about taxes, and Eden found it hard to concentrate on something so boring. He would have preferred if they carried on talking about his father, but understood why they wouldn’t, under the circumstances. That kind of talk would be left to their meeting. Eden was glad, therefore, when the remaining lords started arriving.
Eden greeted all of them in turn, bowing where necessary and treating them with all of the decorum of their posts. At the moment, he was still just Sevenspells’ captain of the guard, but to their credit, all of the men who saw him tried not to look too surprised at his presence. Disappointingly, Rowan was the last man to enter the room. Eden realised, when he thought of the other lords, that his brother really didn’t stand alongside them. Rowan was already past marrying age, and Eden was sure that would be brought up in the meeting. Rowan looked pale, and a patina of grease coated his face. Rowan’s long black hair, usually free-flowing like Eden’s, had been smoothed back with pig’s fat, giving him an altogether unsullied look. Eden was mildly disgusted with his brother’s attempt at showing himself as a lord, but he was also slightly smug. He had arrived early, and had already settled himself with the king and Lord Venn. The wine, half of the glass already down his throat, hadn’t exactly hindered proceedings, and he was glad the king at suggested it, after all. Rowan made a beeline straight for Eden, barely acknowledging the lords around him. Another mistake, Eden thought.
“Hello, brother, does today find you well?”
“It does, my lord; and yourself?”
Eden used the noble form of address on purpose, acknowledging out loud that his brother was his superior, and that he was not here to supplant anyone in the Sevenspells succession. It was also a move to keep Rowan comfortable, as his brother had shown before that he felt easily threatened.
“We are very well today, thank you, little brother,” Rowan had already started using the plural first person, and he sounded like a fool. He’d fit in well with Venn and Shiver. He’d also disregarded Eden’s rank, which made Rowan sound uncaring. So far, Rowan was not doing well. “Any sign of the meeting starting, yes?”
“Soon, Sevenspells, we were waiting for all of the lords to attend. I’m glad you could grace us with your presence.”
Vance had a sarcastic edge to his voice, and neither of the Sevenspells men missed it. Eden only just managed to suppress his smirk as Rowan scrambled for an apology.
“Ah, my apologies, your highness.” Rowan sketched a bow to the king, and it was slow, mocking both in descent and ascent. Vance gave Rowan a bland smile, but didn’t miss a beat.
“Thank you Rowan. It’s been a long time since your father dealt me the courtesy of a decent bow. It’s good to see the heirs of Sevenspells know their place.”
Rowan smiled thinly, and didn’t respond. He might have been arrogant, but he wasn’t a fool. Around him, the lords had stopped their own to chatter to scrutinise Rowan and Vance’s encounter. Rowan coughed, starting to look embarrassed and awkward. Eden had edged away, not wanting to be associated with his brother at this point. Vance let the agonising moment stretch on for a few more seconds, before sparing Rowan from his torture.
“If you are all prepared, my lords? I wish to begin.”
There was a brief muttering around the lords, but everyone indicated that they were ready to start. Vance raised one arm towards the guard at the door, and it was slammed shut with an ominous finality. Eden suddenly felt that fear all over again, with a sense of claustrophobia at being unable to escape the situation. He knew he effectively couldn’t, that he was trapped between the wishes of his king and his desire to please his family. He felt too young to be burdened with these responsibilities, but after the actions of his father, he didn’t trust that anyone else in his family line could cope with it. He was certain that River couldn’t.
As the lords took their seats, Eden was put on edge again by the fact didn’t know where he was meant to sit. As the lords took their traditionally-designated seats, only he and Rowan were left standing. They were the only ones there who had never attended such a meeting before.
“Our apologies, both,” Vance called out. “I forgot that I don’t have my chamberlain here to direct you, and neither of you have been here before. Rowan, your father usually sits over there.” Vance pointed to a seat between Venn and Obrenn. Rowan gratefully rushed to his chair so that he was back the same level as his peers. Vance pointing to a seat in his right hand side, and Eden coloured when he realised that that was where he was meant to sit. “Eden, you sit here. Any man who saves the throne deserves a seat of honour.”