“He would never want her married to a commoner, Insensitive or not,” Adindira said. She glanced at her son, and Orlando saw a silent message pass between them.
Clearly, Rianaer, for all his youth, understood his uncle wanted to keep his Sensitivity a secret.
“The King could have any of the men executed for even being with Mariana,” Adindira continued. “There is plenty he could do.”
“My father wouldn’t have a man executed if he thought we wanted to get married.” Mariana kept her eyes on her hands.
“You aren’t seriously thinking about this.” Adindira stared at her. “You’re the Progenna. You don’t want to marry one of the re…men of this village.”
“I’m not thinking about actually going through with the wedding,” Mariana said, shaking her head, “but if I go to the palace and tell Father I can’t marry Pir Leo because I love someone else and want to marry him, Father will have to reconsider the arrangement. He’ll have to take my feelings into account.”
“Do you think that will work?” Adindira asked.
“Of course.” Mariana stood up, beaming. “He’s my father. He loves me. He wouldn’t want me to marry someone if I’m clearly in love with someone else.”
“Clearly?” Orlando asked, his eyebrows raised.
Now she turned her smile on him. “Yes. Tomorrow, we’ll go to the palace. I’ll explain I ran away because I wanted to find you and bring you to meet him.”
“Um, me? I thought we were talking about one of the men.”
Adindira came back to the table. “You want to marry my brother?”
Mariana blushed and dropped her gaze to the floor. “It’s just I don’t know the other men, and it’s not like we’re going to get married anyway. We’re just going to go to the palace, and I’ll tell him I can’t marry Pir Leo because I love you.”
Orlando shook his head. “I can’t go to the palace. Your father and I don’t see eye to eye on some—no, most—of his laws and taxes. You don’t want me there. He’ll probably have me thrown in the dungeon, and you’ll be married to Valentine before you can turn around.”
“Don’t be silly.” She placed her hand on his arm. “I will make sure that doesn’t happen.”
“Think about it this way, Uncle,” Rian said. “This will give you a chance to get inside the palace for a look around. Maybe you can even find Father. When would that ever happen?”
“Thanks, Rian. Not helping.”
“Find Father?” Mariana asked. “What do you mean?”
Orlando and Adindira exchanged glances. How much did they want to tell the Progenna about their situation? It was an extremely thin and dangerous line they walked here.
Rianaer didn’t seem to realize the danger, because he glared at Mariana. “My father is being held in your father’s dungeon because of the attack on the royal caravan.”
Mariana paled and whispered, “Your husband is the man in the dungeon? I didn’t know. I’m so sorry.”
“Wait,” Orlando said. “You knew about this?”
Mariana bit her lip and shook her head. “I didn’t know it was Adindira’s husband, but I knew my father had someone arrested.” She returned her gaze to Adindira. “I’m sorry, but he plans to have your husband executed.”
Adindira collapsed into her son’s arms, crying. Rianaer glared at Mariana. “Isn’t there anything you can do?”
“I wish I could. I left the palace to try to find a way…I thought maybe…” Then her eyes lit up, and something shook in the pit of Orlando’s stomach. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like the next words out of her mouth.
“We can help him,” she said. “If we announce our intent to marry, Father has to give you a boon.”
“A boon?” Orlando shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. He’s not going to reward me for taking you away from Pir Leo.”
“No, you don’t understand. It’s a royal tradition. Whoever weds one of the Virtuous King or Queen’s children is offered a boon on the day the engagement is formally announced.” She bounced in her chair. In spite of the seriousness of the subject, Orlando couldn’t help noticing how cute she was in her excitement. “We could ask him to release Adindira’s husband.”
Orlando faced his sister. She raised her eyes over Rianaer’s shoulder, the hope in them nearly breaking Orlando’s heart.
“Dira,” he said, “we don’t know if this would even work.”
“Oh, it will,” Mariana said before Adindira could say anything. “When Nigel and Liliana’s engagement was announced, my father said, in front of all the guests, he would deny Nigel nothing, short of the throne.”
“What did he ask for?” Rian asked.
“That’s not important,” his mother said. “Do you think he’d do this?”
Mariana’s grin grew wider. “Of course. Nigel asked for the second fastest horse in my father’s stables, something no one would dare ask for otherwise, and Father gave it gladly.” She tilted her head and shrugged one shoulder.
“Nigel gave it to Liliana as a wedding gift, and the horse still lives in the stables, but Father didn’t know that would happen.”
Orlando saw everyone was looking at him, waiting for his response to all this. As crazy as it all sounded, he couldn’t think of any reason it wouldn’t work.
“You think if we go to your father in the morning, tell him we’re in love, he’ll forget all about his arrangement with Valentine?” he asked.
“He has to.” She nodded, looking so innocent and sounding so convinced he found it hard to believe she was real. Could she be this naïve about the ways of politics?
There was no way the King would back out of whatever agreement he’d made with Valentine. Orlando also didn’t believe for a second Jonathan would let Elnys go. The King needed to show the people he was still strong.
Still, though, regardless of the outcome, Orlando couldn’t think of another option to get Elnys out of the dungeon. If, at the same time, he could help her, that was a bonus. He shook his head, mentally berating himself for being a soft-hearted fool.
“I’ll go with you tomorrow.”
“Thank you.” She reached up and kissed his cheek. Then she headed toward the back of the house.
“And thank you, Adindira, for allowing me to stay in your extra bedroom tonight. I’m glad not to be burdening Orlando any more than necessary.”
She left the three of them in the kitchen, and no one spoke until they heard a door close.
“If I end up in the dungeon with Elnys tomorrow, have the boys mount a rescue for both of us.” He dropped into one of the kitchen chairs and propped his elbows on the table. He covered his face with his hands. “I must be out of my mind.”
“I’ve said it all along.” Adindira went back to the laundry.
****
After midnight, Brother Raulin had another visitor, this one not restricted to the area behind the gate. As brother of the King, he had been afforded certain privileges in the monastery he didn’t see the need to tell Gerard or Jonathan about.
Not that Jonathan had ever visited him here. Since taking the throne upon their father’s death, dear brother Jon apparently didn’t want the world to remember that Raulin, a monk now, had once been more powerful than he was.
Raulin hadn’t even stepped forward for the testing when his father died. When the Father Primary asked why Brother Raulin had received no official messages from Cognate Prince asking him to come to the palace, Raulin said he’d preferred to stay in his cell at the monastery, mourning.
Why Jon hadn’t wanted to be with both of his brothers at that sad time was a question Raulin had never gotten an answer to.
“The King is losing his power,” Thibault said.
He had agreed to meet Raulin at an inn across the river from the monastery. Both men were in disguises, provided by Raulin’s Air and Water Sensitivities. The monk didn’t leave the monastery often, but when he did, he preferred not to be recognized as brother of the King.
“I
assume he’s not ready to admit it,” Raulin said.
Thibault shook his head. “He’s not, even to me, and I think the Queen’s help is making it easier for him to pretend everything is fine.”
“But Alexandria is not a Fire Sensitive. He can’t keep hiding behind her. Someone is bound to notice eventually. What are your plans for when that happens?”
The King’s spy took a long swallow of the liquid the innkeeper had called ale. Raulin knew it was the standard brew made here, but it was anything but decent ale.
“You are my plan,” Thibault answered eventually.
Raulin laughed. “You are sadly mistaken, my friend. I have no desire to sit on the throne of Valborough, and you know that as well as anyone. I could already be there if that were my wish.”
“Your sudden interest in religious life was not what your mother wanted.”
The monk sobered. “She knew what the throne does to a man, and she would have preferred I take that risk instead of Jonathan, her precious firstborn.” He shrugged. “Still, it made sense for the eldest brother to be heir to the throne. Other countries do it that way.”
“‘He who has the power shall rule.’”
“Don’t quote the Law to me. I have supported my King all these years, and I won’t challenge him now.”
“But you would win.”
“Possibly,” Raulin conceded, “and then what? A man who has taken a religious vow of celibacy on the throne? How soon before someone challenged me?” He shook his head. “I have no desire to see men put to death on my account.”
“There isn’t anyone stronger than you.”
Raulin raised his eyebrows. “Ho ho. Now I know you can lie. I’ve often wondered how you were able to speak the things my brother wishes to hear without that ability.”
Thibault didn’t meet his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I see. We are to play the political game of not knowing anything officially. Fine.” Raulin signaled the barkeep for two more drinks. “If we are to assume there is no one in the kingdom more powerful than I, and I have no intention of challenging my own brother for the throne, I would say your visit, while welcome, has been fruitless and is now at an end.”
The serving girl brought the drinks and refrained from flirting as Raulin had seen her do at the other tables she’d waited on. He watched her go back to the bar.
“Was that another one of your secret spells?” he asked without looking at his companion.
“Hmm? Oh, the girl?” Thibault asked. “I knew we weren’t interested in being disturbed, even if it would be a welcome intrusion.”
Now Raulin laughed again. “As though you had eyes for any woman these days. You don’t fool me. Your heart is still wounded, and yet you continue to be loyal to the man on the throne.”
“He didn’t know she and I…” Thibault shook his head. “Not the issue at hand.”
“Listen to me.” Raulin’s voice took on a serious tone and Thibault raised his head. “We don’t have to speak of it, but if there is one more powerful than I, and if that person is near to the throne, it would serve both of us, and Valborough, to pursue that solution.”
Thibault shook his head. “It is too late for that. She…I mean, if there were such a one, that person doesn’t know it and hasn’t been trained. There isn’t time to rectify that.”
Raulin closed his eyes and nodded once slowly. “Perhaps not, but the Elements often surprise us. Don’t rule that solution out.” He drank down the watery ale in the tankard. “I have to get back to the monastery. I do have duties to perform.”
He stood. “Valborough needs a strong sovereign, Thibault. Our neighboring countries are beginning to sense weakness on our throne. You have your own duties, and they are not to any one man, but to the people.”
Chapter Thirteen
Raulin did indeed have duties, but the monastery would have to wait. He sat in a curtained carriage until he saw Thibault ride off. Then, stifling a yawn, he left the vehicle again and walked around the tavern to the stables.
Two other carriages were parked in the shadows nearby, and when Raulin appeared, their doors opened. A man in a gray hooded cloak that hid his face stepped out of an unmarked black wagon. As he walked toward the entrance to the stables, hunched over and with a cane in his right hand, he didn’t look in Raulin’s direction.
The other carriage was painted a dark purple that, in the light of the moon and the torches around the tavern, resembled dried blood. A flag with an apple tree and the words Honor Before All were painted on the door.
A woman stepped out, straightened her fur coat, frowned directly at Raulin, and then, holding her head high, followed the limping man.
Raulin raised an eyebrow in surprise. It had been some time since he had seen these two, and he was pleased they had responded favorably to his request for a meeting. There must be more going on in the kingdom than he realized.
He took a step toward the stables, but stopped when a horse galloped toward him from the road. The young rider had amazing control of the animal, turning it at the last moment and leaping to the ground. When the creature halted instantly, Raulin felt a shimmer of Fauna Sensitivity rush over him.
The horse’s rider, a man about twenty years old, tied the reins to a post, brushed off his trousers, and spoke to the monk.
“Brother Raulin?”
“I am.”
“I am George Evan, Margrave of Selwyn. My father sent me in his place.”
Raulin scowled. This was an unusual situation, and he was unsure how to proceed. “What did your father tell you?”
“Only that there are times when brave men have to step forward for the good of the kingdom.”
“And are you one of those brave men?” Raulin asked, tilting his head and looking at the young man out of the corner of this eye.
“I hope to be, sir.”
“And your father? Has he lost sight of our cause?”
“No, indeed, sir. In fact, both my father and mother are more committed to the cause of the Brotherhood than ever before. The King has taken my grandfather’s land. The old man is ill, in the head, and the King has determined he can no longer care for his own land and tenants.”
“I see,” the monk said. “And your grandfather? Was he paid for the value of the land that, I assume, now belongs to the Crown?”
George Evan shook his head emphatically. “Not a bit of it. My father believes his association with you was the true reason for the seizing of the land.”
“Your father has always been a wise and intelligent man. I will miss his company.” Raulin smiled. “Go into the stables. I am waiting for one more of our party. I think you might be surprised who you see inside.”
“Thank you, sir.”
As the Margrave walked across the yard to the stable, the man Raulin was waiting for stepped through the back door of the tavern, a mug of ale in his hand.
“Are the suspects assembled?” the man asked then took a long swig of his drink. A pretty blonde barmaid stepped from behind him and took the mug. Already, she had a full one ready to hand to him.
“You know Honoria doesn’t like drinking,” Raulin said.
“She doesn’t have to drink.” The other man leaned down and kissed the girl fully on the lips. “Honoria doesn’t like doing that either.”
The barmaid giggled then hurried back into the tavern.
“Lead on, Brother. Shall we go decide the fate of the realm?”
“Mikeal, it may be serious this time.” They walked toward the stables.
“I know, but all the secrecy gets to be a bit much, don’t you think? A man needs to let off steam every now and then.”
Raulin had to grin. Mikeal had a way of making everything sound like he was being tortured by life. The Brotherhood hadn’t met in months, and Raulin knew the other man hadn’t been in hiding all that time.
They entered the stables, and instantly, Mikeal stiffened, nearly dropping his mug.
“W
ho is the stranger? Why is he here?” he asked, scowling. “Have you forgotten all we risk coming here?”
“Slow down, Mikeal,” an aged voice said from beneath the gray hood. “I know this young man, and we have nothing to fear.”
“That is fine for you, Kylan,” Mikeal said. “What do you know about fear? What would King Jonathan do to you if your association with us was discovered? Most likely nothing. Who else could examine youngsters to find their abilities?”
“No one has anything to fear,” Raulin said, moving to the center of the group assembled. “This is George Evan, son of the Sahdeer of Selwyn. Apparently, Walter feels he is getting too old to continue with the Brotherhood and has sent George Evan to take his place.”
“And you know what our purpose is?” Honoria said. She sat stiffly on a bale of hay, her hands folded tightly in her lap. Her entire demeanor spoke of her discomfort and desire to be anywhere else, but she smiled at the young man.
“I know the Brotherhood of the Secret Hand works behind the scenes to protect the throne of Valborough.”
The other people in the stables exchanged glances.
“That’s almost right,” Raulin said, moving to stand next to George Evan. “We work to protect Valborough. We owe no allegiance to any one King.”
“But certainly you all swore fealty to King Jonathan and Queen Alexandria.”
Kylan stood and cleared his throat. “The Brotherhood of the Secret Hand supports the Virtuous King or Queen of Valborough until such time as it is clear his or her reign is no longer the best thing for the country.”
“As long as there is peace, and the King is serving the people, the Brotherhood will remain silent.”
The other four people spoke in unison as George Evan stood, watching. “But when there is a need, when the Virtuous Sovereign is no longer worthy of the name, the Brotherhood will rise up to defend Valborough.”
“You have heard the words of the Brotherhood,” Raulin said, stepping up to George Evan. “Will you be with us?”
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