Silent Kingdom

by Rachel L. Schade

  “Princess Halia. We surrender and offer you our arms,” he said. He continued to hold my stare as he raised his fist to his chest in a salute. “In the wake of the death of King Zarev, your father, and in Prince Gillen’s absence, we recognize you as our leader and pledge our allegiance…and plead for mercy from your hand.”

  He paused and there was a breathless silence. The men behind him stood solemnly holding their salutes and gazing at Narek, as if they were awaiting his next move rather than mine. Suspicion gnawed at my mind. They were trapped with few options left but to surrender to me, but that did not mean I could trust any of them. Least of all Narek.

  Narek turned his gaze toward me. There was a hint of a smile twisting his lips, a gleam in his onyx eyes. There was something happening here. Something wasn’t right…

  “I accept your surrender,” I said, looking down to meet the man’s gaze unflinchingly. I would not let him see my fear and doubt. “But as for your allegiance…or mercy…” I let the word drift on the breeze, waited for the men still standing to shift on their feet uncomfortably, for even Narek’s stare to falter a little with uncertainty. “We will see.”

  I could feel Jennah’s eyes boring into the back of my head, almost hear her asking, What are you thinking? As much as they outnumbered us, the men could lift their swords and cut us down in mere moments.

  But they were loyal to their captain. Whatever Narek’s intentions, he had an entire host of men at his call and he had not ordered them to kill me.

  The guard’s eyes narrowed. “Thank you,” he said, though his expression said otherwise. He rose to his feet and joined the men behind him.

  “Let us into the palace,” I ordered.

  The guards swung open the doors and we all entered together to find the servants collected in the entryway. They stared, unsure whether to be relieved or frightened, and bowed their heads, saluting and trembling.

  I drew myself up to my full height and studied them all. “It is true that my father is dead. Gillen is the true king, but until he returns, you will be taking my orders.” No one moved; every eye was fixed upon me. “Anyone still loyal to my father can leave now, no questions asked.” Jennah gave me a sidelong glance. “All others can lock every one of these guards in the dungeons.” I turned back toward Narek. “Except for him.”

  Narek’s eyebrows lifted in the slightest display of surprise.

  “For now,” I snapped.

  The servants scurried forward, dragging the guards away. If I had been in any other mood, I would have found the sight amusing: the muscled Royal Guard meekly submitted to even the smallest of the servants, unwilling to resist them and disobey their captain’s orders.

  I turned on the captain. “Where is my aunt?” I asked.

  “Your father imprisoned her shortly after Gillen left.”

  My heart plummeted to my stomach. “Release her! Now!”

  Without a word, the Captain of the Guard nodded and led the way. I dashed after Narek as he swept toward the prison with his long, easy strides. As we descended the steps and the familiar blackness enclosed about me once more, I heard footsteps trail after us. Narek paused to pull a torch, still burning, from the wall and hold it aloft to light our path, making the passageways flicker. He pulled a ring of keys off his belt and shuffled toward a nearby cell. Seeing the form huddled inside, I held my breath.

  She leaned weakly against the far wall, lifting a hand to her face to shield her eyes from the torchlight.

  “Velaire,” I said, watching hopefully as she stirred.

  Narek stepped toward the door and unlocked it, swinging it open so I could stand in the entryway.

  “Halia?” Her voice sounded hoarse. Slowly, she lowered her hand and blinked against the light. I watched as her dark blue eyes focused on me and widened in surprise. “How…?”

  I rushed forward to embrace her, trying to ignore how frail and weak she felt in my arms. “I’m here. I’ve returned.”

  She gasped and her body sagged against me. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she went limp. My knees almost buckled under the weight. “H-help,” I choked out, and Jennah and a servant girl were by my side in an instant.

  “We will carry her to her chambers. She needs food and water—and rest. I’m sure she will be fine,” Jennah reassured me.

  As we exited the cell, I glared at Narek. “Now that my aunt is free, this will be your cell.”

  The male servant standing behind him took Narek’s key ring and shoved him forward unceremoniously. Silent, the captain watched as the servant locked his cell.

  With a flourish, I gave Narek a mock salute. “Thank you for your assistance.”

  He responded with a grin of his own, one I chose to ignore.

  Then I turned back to the servants, already bearing my aunt away. “Take care of her!”

  I followed them out of the prison and through the palace. They carried my aunt away while another servant joined Jennah and me and led me toward my own bedchambers, which looked much like how I had left them years ago. The sight was almost too eerie for me, but before I could protest a servant was putting fresh sheets on the bed and Jennah was ushering me toward it.

  “There is no time to rest.”

  “Your aunt will be fine. The guards are in prison and the others will be here soon. The palace is secure.”

  “But…” I stammered.

  “You were dead!” Jennah exclaimed.

  The servant stopped her work and stared at us.

  “Almost,” I said feebly.

  “You should not be alive. There is no explanation, but I won’t pester you with questions now. You must sleep, or you will be useless for the work ahead of you.”

  At Jennah’s words, I felt my exhaustion rush over me. Every muscle ached and the weariness ran so deeply it felt like it had settled in my bones. The servant finished drawing back the covers for me and I tumbled into bed.

  “Only for a moment,” I murmured.

  A million concerns chased each other in my mind, wrestling for my attention, but when I closed my eyes, I dozed.

  ~ ~ ~

  Still clothed in my filthy cloak and boots, I woke from a dream of riots and battles, blood and death. Shaking, I yanked my aching body from bed and crept to the window. The clouds had broken slightly, allowing for the smallest sliver of blue sky to peek through. Although it felt like ages could have passed in my dreams, the sun was high in the afternoon sky. Only a few hours had passed. The city was quiet, my room was empty, and the palace was still.

  A knock sounded at my door, pulling me away from the window.

  I tried to stand a little straighter to mask my weariness. “You may enter.”

  Jennah opened the door. Her eyes sparkled and her whole manner was light and free, as if she had just visited Evren Garden and couldn’t wait to share her experience. I envied her. My entire body was like a weight dragging me down, and I was sure I would never feel light again.

  “Kam and my daughters escaped to another rebel hideout.” Her smile widened. “And Marke has returned safely; I found him there as well. I brought him here because he said he wanted to speak to you. He’s waiting outside.”

  My heart leapt to my throat in a mixture of joy for Jennah, and then anticipation and fear for the news Marke brought. Did he have information about Rev and Lyanna? Kyrin…or Avrik?

  I followed Jennah through the halls and into the main courtyard. Marke stood beside the empty fountain, his face shrouded in the hood of his grey, fur-lined cloak. When he saw me, he saluted. “My lady.”

  “Do you have word from Evren?”

  Marke nodded. “Lyanna and Rev were grieved at your disappearance. They were searching everywhere for you when I left; as soon as Jennah told me you were here, I wanted to speak to you. But other than their concern for you, they are well. The sedwa have claimed no other victims.”

  I drew a deep breath, releasing some of the tension knotted inside.

  “They also spread your news about Kyrin, and
he was arrested. The people sentenced him to death.”

  My jaw clenched as I thought of Avrik and how he must have reacted. And how is he? I could not bring myself to ask Marke, was not sure I wanted to know.

  “I brought you this,” Marke said softly. Reaching into the inside pocket of his cloak, he drew out a paper, unwrapped it, and dropped something into my palm. I glanced down at the dried spikes of lavender, tied together with twine in the way Lyanna always gathered and saved the flowers. I sighed. Still heavy with fragrance, it was a simple reminder of home. “Before I departed, Lyanna and Rev met with me, begging me that if I encountered you on my travels I would give you this and ensure you were safe.” He hesitated. “I know you were also friends with Avrik. I asked him, before I left for the port at Kelwed, if he had anything to say to you, if I found you. He…” He shook his head. “I have no word from him.”

  Clenching the lavender in my fist, I felt my anger and pain rise with renewed vigor. I knew Avrik was hurting, but this information felt like one last way he could spite me, as if he blamed me for his father’s actions. Lavender petals dropped from my fist and spotted the snow. The last shreds of my hopes fell away with them: Avrik would not come to me, and he did not want me to go to him.

  “I—I’m sorry,” Marke stammered, clearly at a loss for words.

  “It’s not your fault.” I closed my eyes for a moment, as if that could shut out the hurt.

  Saluting, he turned back to his wife, who wasted no time in flinging her arms about his neck. “The Giver of Blessings heard my prayers,” she murmured against his neck. “You are safe; the girls are safe. We are all safe.”

  Leaving Jennah and Marke to reconnect, I strode back toward the palace, walking the familiar hallways, listening to the overwhelming silence in the wake of the earlier tumult. Somewhere in the palace, the servants had laid my mother’s body to rest; in other quarters, Gillen’s chambers sat empty and still, awaiting his return; in the dungeons below, dozens of members of the Royal Guard paced their cells in anticipation of their sentences, but I did not want to think about that now. I stopped before the door to my aunt’s chambers and knocked gently, receiving no answer. Slowly, I pushed the door open and found my aunt lying in bed.

  I blinked back tears as I studied her, looking so small it seemed that her bed could swallow her. The wrinkles at the corners of her eyes told stories of past laughter, but the dark circles beneath them betrayed her present pain. Her auburn hair, tangled and dull with dirt, tumbled wildly about her face. Never in my life had I seen my beautiful and graceful aunt look so ragged. How long had she been in prison? I was afraid to guess.

  At my approach, Velaire stirred. I stopped beside her bed and we gazed at one another for several silent moments. It seemed too wonderful to be together again, too awful to be reunited under such circumstances.

  “I can hardly believe you are alive. You’ve grown so much…and you look like Ryn…”

  I bit my lip, pain and bitterness surging in my heart all at once.

  She sat up and grasped my hand. “He sent Gillen away.” Her voice cracked and her lips trembled. “I tried to stop him… He’s destroyed… everything.”

  “He’s dead,” I whispered. “It’s over. You are free, and we can end this war. He cannot hurt us anymore.”

  Velaire sighed with relief. “Gillen can come home?”

  “Gillen can come home.”

  I climbed into bed beside her and lay my head on her shoulder. She cried, her shoulder shaking beneath me, and I embraced her. The recovery—for the city, for us—would be slow and painful. But with my aunt beside me, I could feel relief and comfort settle in my heart. Lyanna and Rev were far from danger. Velaire was safe and my cousin could come home from the battlefront.

  I’d never known that I could feel this broken and whole at once.

  ~ ~ ~

  When I sank back into my own bed, the vision came to me without warning, enveloping me as vividly as if I had left the palace and the city far behind.

  Snowflakes swirled around the figure, blanketing the Evren countryside with a fresh powder that covered the old, dirty snow. Overhead the velvet sky was masked with grey clouds that kept all but a few dim stars hidden.

  The form was treading its way along the path into town, a solitary traveler in a cold, black night. When the person entered town and passed by the windows of Wanderer’s Rest, the light pooling into the street made the figure’s face clear and I recognized Avrik. His breath misted around him while he shivered and rubbed his hands up and down his arms to warm himself. For one instant he stared longingly through the windows, and then he turned back toward the night.

  When he drew up before the old stone building that enclosed Evren’s dungeons, my heart ached. An Evren guard, his hood drawn closely about his face against the cold, lifted a lantern to peer into Avrik’s face. Avrik’s hair stuck up at every angle and dark circles traced his eyes. Pale and solemn, he looked worn and hollowed-out, as if all his light had been stolen from him.

  “What do you want?” the man demanded gruffly.

  “To see the prisoner.” Avrik’s voice was raspy.

  The guard stared at him for a moment before turning to unlock the heavily barred door and shove it open. It creaked on its hinges and pushed inward to reveal a dim interior flickering with a single torch set in a wall bracket near the entrance. Snow drifted in with Avrik. There were two barred doors on the left and two on the right, but the footsteps echoing along the stones came from the first door on the left.

  Avrik approached the door and peered in through the grate to see Kyrin’s eyes peering back at him.

  “Son,” Kyrin said, his voice almost a whisper. His hair was as disheveled as his son’s and his countenance looked paler than I had ever seen it. A smile spread across his face as he studied his son.

  Avrik’s expression remained solemn while his eyes bored into his father’s. “Tell me you didn’t do it.” His voice sounded low, bitter. “Tell me Elena is a liar.” My name had never been so rough on his tongue, as if it hurt to speak it. “Tell me how the people’s rumors about you are founded in falsehood, because they don’t like us.”

  Kyrin dropped his smile to match Avrik’s stern face. “I didn’t do it.”

  Avrik cringed like his father had struck him. “You lie. I can see it in your eyes.”

  “I told you what you wanted me to say. You know I only want you to be happy, safe…” He reached toward the bars, but Avrik pulled back. “The king’s royal guard met with me, after we heard news of the war with Alrenor.”

  Avrik’s hands clenched into fists at the reminder.

  “He offered me a mission in the king’s name. For every beast I slew, for every set of fangs I brought to Misroth City for the king, I would receive a greater sum of money than I could make from anything else I’ve ever sold. But far more importantly, I could guarantee that you would never be called to war. Your life would never be in danger.”

  “But I was in danger. You endangered countless lives,” Avrik whispered. If possible, his face looked even whiter. “The people of Evren could have been hunted and killed, and I was attacked. My friends were attacked.”

  Kyrin shook his head. “I was there in the woods to find you and ensure you were safe. Everything I did was for you, to provide for you and build you a better life than a soldier’s life or a pathetic existence in this miserable town. I’ve earned the king’s favor, ensured you will never be sent to Argelon or Alrenor, and amassed a small fortune. We can leave Evren behind for a new life, a better one…”

  Avrik clenched his jaw, but his voice quavered. “The people have sentenced you to death.”

  Kyrin’s face was dark. “If only your friend Elena hadn’t kept so many secrets of her own.”

  “She’s gone, and I’m glad to be rid of her,” Avrik snapped.

  Kyrin didn’t seem surprised at the anger in Avrik’s tone. “We could send word to the capital to inform the king of my imprisonment. There is still hope
for us.” He stared at his son and stepped even closer to the bars, trying to cross the distance between them. “And if not for me, then for you. There is more for you than this.”

  Avrik’s eyes looked almost black in the dungeons. “I didn’t want more. I wanted a father.”

  His face set as hard as stone, he walked out into the night.

  ~ ~ ~

  Though the vision had left me exhausted and aching hours earlier, I was still wide awake. The sound of the waves crashing outside my window could no longer lull me to sleep as it had when I was a child. Curled in bed, I listened to the wind and imagined the stormy sea brewing beyond my drawn curtains. Once, my mother would have soothed my childhood fears with her soft singing voice; my cousin Gillen would have stayed up late into the night with me, telling me stories almost as good as his father’s or pretending we were on a quest together as we stole about the palace.

  No one would come to comfort me tonight. Now only phantoms visited, memories of people and times that brought more pain than comfort. My mother was dead and my cousin was risking his life in a needless war. All of the servants I’d grown up with had been released from service or killed under my father’s reign, and my aunt was still frail and sick.

  My head ached. I rolled over in bed and sought the sprigs of lavender lying on my nightstand. I held them under my nose and inhaled their comforting scent. If I closed my eyes and tried to shut out the sound of the sea, I could picture myself back home, with Rev snoring softly in the next room and Lyanna rising before dawn to start a fire and prepare breakfast. Sometimes she’d rouse me to help; other times she would let me sleep to recover from an evening of sword practice with Avrik, even if she thought our fun was frivolous.

  Avrik. His name pierced me like an arrow. I could still see his pale face in my mind’s eye, and my heart filled with pain and fury all at once. Perhaps I could hurt for him and even forgive him, understanding what it was like to lose parents to deceit, but that did not remove the sting of his betrayal. It didn’t change the fact that he had chosen to be angry with me, to leave me because I had shared the truth.