“What of Sir Kalenek?” Wilek asked. “I sent him on an errand in Farway. Has he returned?”
Rayim frowned. “He has not. Where did you send him?”
Wilek’s heart sank, and when he didn’t answer, Rayim waved to him. “Come rest in my tent. We will camp here and cross Echo Crack in the morning.”
Wilek dismounted and spotted Rand atop his horse a few paces behind. “Randmuir Khal of the Omatta has been banished from Everton. I wish to vouch for him and allow him and his tribe to enter the city without hindrance.”
Rayim lit up in a smile. “Excellent, Your Highness.” He nodded to Rand. “I knew you’d find him, old friend.”
“Magonian witches done a number on him,” Rand said, “but he’s still breathing.”
“Indeed he is. And he welcomed you back. I suspect you’ll have no trouble as long as the rosâr, Sâr Janek, and Rosârah Laviel are away. They likely won’t return soon.”
“Is the castle destroyed?” Wilek asked.
“Not fully. The east wing and the crossbar collapsed along with a section of the inner west wing. The rest stands. There was a lot of damage in the city too. Hundreds of buildings down.”
“Death toll?”
“Just under six hundred, last I heard.”
Wilek’s heart sank. “Trevn? The sârahs? The other rosârahs?”
“They are all well and have gone with the rosâr to Canden, except your mother, grandmother, and Sâr Trevn.”
Trevn stayed behind? “Something happened to Trevn?”
“He is perfectly healthy, but there are some matters to discuss in private.”
Wilek looked to Harton, who was still on his horse. “We’ll camp here for the night. Have the men ready to leave at dawn.”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Harton said.
Wilek handed his reins to a young soldier and followed Rayim into a familiar blue military tent. It almost felt like home. Rayim had even brought some furniture.
Wilek settled onto a wicker longchair cushioned in blue velvet and released a deep breath, feeling truly safe for the first time in weeks. “Tell me of my brother.”
“The very day we received word of your safety, Sâr Trevn visited your mother’s court and swore fealty to you through her. He has attended the court of Rosârah Brelenah every day since, much to his mother’s vexation.”
“Did he give any reason for this sudden pledge of devotion?”
“Just that he was thankful you were alive and wanted to show his loyalty in these uncertain times.”
A purposeful slight to Janek, perhaps? “Has Janek vexed him?”
“Not that I’m aware of, Your Highness, though the Earl of Dacre has been spending nearly every moment at Seacrest with Sâr Janek. For the past month, I’d guess.”
“Hinckdan and Janek?” A ludicrous pairing.
“I thought the same, but it’s true. I’ve investigated. And there’s more. A message from Rosârah Thallah gave word to the others traveling to Canden that Sâr Trevn is ill and confined to her tent. The truth, of course, is he remained in Everton secretly. Your father might still be unaware that he is not among the Canden contingent.”
“If Rosârah Thallah went to Canden, why did Trevn stay behind?”
“I know not, Your Highness. Such a deception is routine for Sâr Trevn, but I cannot guess why Rosârah Thallah would play along.”
Trevn wanted everyone to believe he was headed to Canden. “What’s he up to?”
“That, Your Highness, I would very much like to know. But his young lady friend left for Sarikar with your betrothed, so I cannot blame her for his actions.”
“What young lady friend? Do you mean Miss Mielle?”
“The very girl. I caught them kissing in the garden once. And he danced his first with her at his ageday ball. Rosârah Thallah forbade their friendship, which likely only encouraged it to bloom. I am glad Princess Nabelle took the girl to Sarikar, for I feared he might soon fulfill his mother’s dream of his siring the rosâr’s first grandchild.”
Janek had already done that several times over, illegitimately, of course. But Wilek wouldn’t put it past his idealistic youngest brother to marry in secret. He sighed, but it felt good to be part of the drama of court life again. “I’ll speak with him.”
“Thank you, Your Highness. Sâr Trevn is a clever young man. He doesn’t act without reason, even when he seeks to shock.”
Wilek could attest to that.
“I fear someone has threatened him. Father Tomek died while you were away. Most mysteriously, I might add.”
“No! What happened?”
“The physician declared it a natural death, though rumors of poison abound. His room had been ransacked—and a few days later Cadoc told me Sâr Trevn’s chambers suffered the same fate.”
“It does seem like a lot of trouble, even for Trevn. Though it could simply be more of his games.”
“Perhaps,” Rayim said. “But I sense it’s something more.”
Wilek couldn’t help but agree.
The next day passed slowly. The procession set out before dawn, yet it was long after the night prayer bells when they finally reached the gates of Castle Everton.
It was too dark to see the damage. They entered through the west wing. While Wilek was eager to see his mother, grandmother, and brother, he didn’t want to wake anyone, so he ordered a servant to have him roused at the dawn bells and went straight to bed.
The abduction almost seemed unreal now that he was home. He lay awake, wondering who might be numbered among the priests of Havôt and if they were the ones who wanted him dead. Were they here in Everton or with his father in Canden? And when they discovered Wilek had returned, would they attempt to kill him?
Kal had always slept with a dagger under his pillow, which, tonight, inspired Wilek to do the same.
Tomorrow. Wilek would find answers then.
Trevn
Sometime after night bells, Cadoc woke Trevn with word from the watch that Wilek had returned. Trevn sprinted to his brother’s chambers, but the guards refused him entry. Trevn didn’t care. He had waited long enough.
He returned to his bedchamber, climbed out his balcony, and scaled the wall. It occurred to him that he should have told Cadoc his plans. He should also tell Captain Veralla and Captain Alpress how easily he could sneak into the royal bedchambers. He was loath to give up his secret, but if he could do it, so could an assassin.
Trevn slipped over Wilek’s balcony and heard groaning. He froze, hoping he wasn’t interrupting his brother with some woman. But then he heard a snore, a body shift on the bed.
He crept inside and opened the fireplace to light a candle, then used the candle to light a lantern. A pale yellow glow lit the room.
Trevn stepped up to the bed. Wilek thrashed back and forth and moaned. The way the bedsheets had twisted around his body made him look like a corpse wrapped for shipping.
“Wilek?”
“No!” Wilek yelled. “Leave me be.”
But Trevn could not. He had waited so long. “I must talk with you.”
“Release me from this spell, witch. Release me!”
Oh, he was dreaming. “Wilek,” Trevn said louder. He hung the lantern on the hook above the bed, reached out, and shook Wilek’s shoulder.
Wilek grabbed his arm just above the elbow and pulled him close, eyes open. His free hand drew a dagger from under his pillow and held it to Trevn’s throat. The blade scraped over his skin.
“Stop!” Trevn tried to pull away. “It’s Trevn. Your brother.”
“Liar!” Wilek’s eyes were wild. He was bone thin, had cropped his hair short, and wore a scruffy beard covering his cheeks and chin. “I told the guards to let no one pass, yet here you are, wearing Trevn’s skin. Have you captured him? Cut his locks?”
Trevn had never been so terrified, not even when Father Tomek had died in his presence. Had Wilek gone mad? “I scaled the wall and came through your balcony.”
Wilek’s brow pi
nched. “All the way to the fifth floor?”
“It’s not terribly difficult. The stone bricks are filled with cracks that make great handholds.”
Wilek lowered the knife but kept his grip on Trevn’s arm. “Trevn?”
“Yes! It’s me, I swear it!”
“Tell me something only you would know. What was served at dinner the night Lebetta died? When we ate with Lady Zeroah and her honor maiden.”
Dinner? “I-I don’t remember.”
Wilek shook him. “You are Charlon!”
Who? Trevn forced his thoughts back to that night. “Um . . . I, uh, don’t recall what we ate. Mielle wore an orange dress with black beads and a white sash. She had little orange flowers in her hair.” It came to him suddenly. “We had carrot soup. I remember thinking it matched her dress. And whitefish.”
Wilek let go.
Trevn backed up a safe distance, touched his stinging throat; a dab of blood came away. Five Woes. “Wh-who is Charlon?”
Wilek grunted. “It’s no matter. Someone in Everton wants me dead, but who?”
Trevn had several guesses. “Janek’s supporters. They want him on the throne. He’s been helping Father in your absence.”
Wilek climbed from the bed and walked onto the balcony, skin tight on his bones. He looked over the edge, then turned and peered up to the roof. “No rope. Did you come from above or below?”
“From the side. I free-climb. Wilek, are you listening? It’s urgent I speak with you.”
Wilek came back inside. “I gather it must be urgent if you are sneaking into my chambers like some kind of Knife.”
“It couldn’t wait, not even until dawn. Besides, I thought you wanted to know who killed Lady Lebetta.”
Wilek frowned. “Her murder was solved?”
“Not solved,” Trevn said, “but I have a theory.”
Wilek sat on the edge of his bed. “Forgive me, brother. I am not myself. Being held prisoner . . . it has made me overly cautious. Please, sit and say what you must.”
Trevn claimed a footstool and the words spilled forth. “Eudora had a stone etched with the same rune Lady Lebetta had drawn in blood. So I sent Hinck to befriend Janek and try to find out why. Hinck thinks it’s a secret circle. He has received visits from hooded men, telling him an invitation is coming.”
“That’s . . . bizarre.”
“Yes, well, Father Tomek said the runes Lady Lebetta drew come from a cult started by Prince Mergest III—the very cult that lost him the throne of Sarikar to his brother, Jorger. Hinck also learned that Eudora supports Janek for Heir. My guess is their group will make a move now that they have Father cloistered in Canden. Then there’s the information in Sir Kalenek’s message.”
Wilek perked up. “Kal sent word?”
“Through his backman. He found no translation for the rune except that one of the symbols was the mark of a Knife. Sir Kalenek thinks Father had Lady Lebetta killed, but I think this secret circle is involved. Eudora’s stone had no Knife symbol upon it.”
“The priests of Havôt,” Wilek said.
The familiar word stopped Trevn. “Who?”
“The men who rule Armania in secret. An old mantic woman told me the rune is their mark. The upside-down Knife symbol is their way of making a command outside the king’s authority.”
“Havôt means great shadir in ancient Armanian. Prince Mergest’s cult is called Lahavôtesh, which means followers of the great shadir. I read about it in a scroll Father Tomek left me. I bet they are one and the same.”
“A mantic cult in Armania,” Wilek said. “Who would be part of it?”
“Rogedoth,” Trevn said. “He is really Prince Mergest III.”
“What?” Wilek roared. “Father Tomek discovered this?”
Relief washed over Trevn to finally be getting this all out. “No. Father Tomek is a whole different problem. I saw a painting of the young Prince Mergest III at the Duke of Odarka’s home. I recognized Rogedoth right away. Hinck believes Rogedoth is Janek’s father—that I’m not convinced of. But Rogedoth—or Prince Mergest—has been killing Armanite priests for years. I think he killed Father Tomek to destroy what they believed was the last copy of the Book of Arman, but I copied it in my lessons, and now they’re watching me. Father Tomek said to show you the Book of Arman when it was safe. He hoped you’d read it.”
“Slow down, brother. What does the book say that is so offensive?”
“I confess, I never paid attention. Just copied the words. But I’ve begun to read it again. So far it says that Arman is the Only God. Any other deity is false—black spirits that want to consume us. They feed off our souls when we make offerings. To pledge our lives to them gives them control over us. Any time a spirit creates a false god, it creates trouble for Arman.”
“To fully worship a shadir, one needs evenroot,” Wilek said.
“Really?” That made so much sense. “Miss Mielle and I uncovered an evenroot harvesting yard in the city. They were using orphans to process the root. I bet Rogedoth is behind it.”
Wilek stood, eyes raging. “I will not let mantics rule this realm.”
“There’s one more thing,” Trevn said, nearly breathless with the excitement of finally confessing all to Wilek. “Sir Kalenek found a woman in Magonia. A true prophet, he says. He is bringing her here. She foretells that only by sea will anyone survive what’s to come. Her words match a prophecy Father Tomek left for me. The Five Woes.”
“The doomsday prophecy the Athosians preach?”
“Every faith has a version of the Five Woes prophecy. I think it’s upon us, Wil, and I’m not the only one. I know that sounds crazy. I didn’t want to believe it at first. Still don’t. But our land is dying. I think we destroyed it—the priests, the mantics, the smugglers. Our greed took too much. We must leave if we are to survive.”
“Where is this message from Kal?”
“Dendrick has it. You should hear Novan Heln’s report as well. It’s most convincing. He saw the destruction of Kaptar and says Hebron and Ebro are gone as well.”
Wilek seemed to shrink under that news. “Let us go to Dendrick now. I’ll find no sleep tonight.” He started for the door.
Trevn jumped up and followed. “I haven’t found sleep for weeks.”
Wilek gripped Trevn’s shoulder. “I’m glad you woke me, brother. You’ve done well.”
Wilek’s words were a balm on Trevn’s overwhelmed soul. He had to look away to maintain his composure.
The First Arm had returned. All would be well now.
Trevn assisted Wilek all day. After Wilek read Sir Kalenek’s message and Father Tomek’s research on the Lahavôtesh, he had three separate interviews with Novan Heln. Trevn brought all the versions of the Five Woes and Root prophecies from his secret room so that Wilek could compare them with Heln’s story and Dendrick’s translation of Sir Kalenek’s scroll.
Trevn wanted to send soldiers to Canden to arrest Pontiff Rogedoth, Yohthehreth, and Lau for the murder of Father Tomek, and he told Wilek as much.
“I cannot arrest them without proof of some crime,” Wilek said, then explained his plan to travel to Canden with Teaka and her newt and let the creature seek out evenroot. “If I find root in their chambers, I can arrest them for that, to start.”
“Clever,” Trevn said, happy to know that the men would be arrested soon.
“I need to confirm or deny this theory of Rogedoth being Janek’s father. Perhaps Teaka could ask her shadir to find out?”
The idea left Trevn queasy. “You would solicit the service of a mantic?”
“Worry not. Teaka is a good mantic.”
“Black spirits are never good—so said Father Tomek.”
“Teaka will speak with them, not me. I know of no other way to discover the truth.”
Before Trevn could argue further, Rosârah Brelenah and Gran came to visit Wilek for first sleep, a half dozen dogs with them. That was the only time Trevn was apart from Wilek all day and one of the first times
he had ever slept during first sleep.
Cadoc woke him with a summons from Wilek. Trevn ran to his brother’s chambers, ready to tell Wilek about Barek’s Nahtan group that was working on the evacuation, but this time it wasn’t the Five Woes that Wilek wanted to discuss.
“I heard you have been spending much time with Miss Mielle Allard.”
Trevn’s cheeks burned, but he grinned. “I like her. She went to Sarikar with Princess Nabelle and Lady Zeroah. They believe the Woes are upon us and intend to convince King Jorger.”
“My betrothed.” Wilek frowned. “Lebetta and I were your age when we discovered each other, though that was different since she was given to me, and Miss Mielle has not been given to you. What is her age?”
Trevn slumped in his chair. “The years are wrong. But superstitions are asinine. Father forced me to sign a betrothal to Lady Zeroah while you were gone so that there would be peace with Sarikar in case you died. Only because I matched her in fives.”
Wilek shrugged as if Trevn’s confession meant nothing. “That’s politics, Trevn. Politics tells me I must marry Lady Zeroah as soon as possible, despite the possibility that the end of the world might be upon us.”
“Hinck says his parents aren’t the same age and they do fine—most of the time. And Mielle said Sir Kalenek loved his wife very much and they weren’t the same age.”
“Yet she died. Horribly. Father would see that as Mikreh’s doing.”
“I want no one but Mielle.” Trevn felt foolish. He sounded like a prince throwing a tantrum.
Wilek studied him, nodded. “I’ll do what I can to help you, but first we must help our people.”
Yes, that was far more important. “To Canden, then?”
“I will go to Canden. You will take a message to King Jorger in Sarikar.”
Alone? “But I want to stay with you.”
“There is too much at stake. You must accomplish three things. First, tell King Jorger that his son has become our Pontiff and is Janek’s father.”
Trevn’s arm hair stood on end. “The witch told you that?”
“She did. And I believe her.”
Trevn did not. “Why should we trust a black spirit? Father Tomek would never.”
King's Folly Page 47