Whether they meant to fight for him, or whether they were calling for his blood, Razem wasn't sure. He peered down. "Is that Ilzi's standard?" His heart jumped and he coughed against the tightness in his chest.
"A white dove, majesty." Kho's voice was grim.
Razem swallowed against a rush of bile. She was sixteen. Sixteen and not even betrothed yet. "Order a sally," he whispered. "The palace guard will ride out to assist her."
"It could be a ruse," Kho began, but Razem cut him off.
"I will not abandon my cousin to them!" he snapped.
Kho saluted smartly and ran to shout orders. Razem leaned on the parapet, bent forward so his chest rested against the sun-warmed stone. He couldn't tell at first if he was being obeyed, and then he saw the gates swing slowly open, just enough to let out a column of soldiers, two riders abreast. As soon as the horses were out, pikemen on foot went out to defend the retreat, and the gates crashed shut again.
Despite his fear, Razem had a sudden wish to be out there with them, wielding his sword in his own defense instead of relying on men and women he had probably never met. He strained to see what was happening, until he heard a whizzing noise. He jerked back and a crossbow bolt shattered against the stone near where his hand had been pressed.
"I beg you, do not make yourself a target!" Kho hissed, dragging him back from the parapet and into a crouch. "We will need you when this is over, my lord."
"Tell me what is happening," Razem said, then shook his head as Kho began to stand. "No, wait—don't make yourself a target either, Emran. I can't win this without you."
Kho rocked back on his heels and regarded him. "I believe you would, Majesty. You have already begun to grow into your title. Your anger has gone."
"Not gone," Razem corrected tiredly. "It is still there, my friend. But I am angry for the right reasons now, I hope. And angry at the right people." He sighed and rested his head back against the stone. "All the same, I would far rather have your counsel than not."
Kho nodded and crouched there for a moment more, then lifted his head. "You there, sergeant! What is happening?"
The woman he had hailed peeked over the wall, then dashed to them. "The Lady Ilzi and her soldiers are winning through, sir!" She stuck her head out again and ducked back. "The barricade has been breached in one spot. She will carry it!"
They could hear cheers from the soldiers on the ground, and a few minutes later, someone shouted up from inside the wall. "General! May we open to admit Lady Ilzi and the sally?"
"Open!" Kho bellowed, and the gates creaked open again. Ilzi's troops and those of the palace guard who had come to her aid pounded into the courtyard, washed on the cheers of the victorious. Kho jumped to his feet and looked over the wall, then helped Razem stand.
"Look, my lord," he urged.
Razem peered down through the lengthening shadows to see the barricade shattered, one part of it smoldering from an overturned brazier. Dead soldiers littered the ground on either side of it. Razem closed his eyes and breathed out a long sigh. He was grateful beyond measure that his young cousin was well, and that his side had won the skirmish. But he couldn't help mourning for the treacherous dead as well as the loyal. They had been misled, and though they might well have been executed anyway, he was grieved at their deaths.
He started down the steps to meet the new troops. The mounted warriors in the courtyard circled their horses around a slight figure in half-plate armor, a wimple wrapped around her head and a circlet helm over it rather than a full helm. She grinned up at Razem as he leaned over the stairs. Her face was smudged and she looked very young and very alive.
"Cousin!" she called up, "I bring you succor! We have few enough soldiers, but they are yours, as is my sword!"
Tears rushed into Razem's eyes so he had to wipe them away before he negotiated the rest of the stairs. When he reached the bottom, Ilzi was off her horse, straightening the split skirt of her tunic. Razem caught her in his arms, armor and all, and swung her in a circle. Ilzi shrieked with laughter, then remembered her dignity and struggled to be set down.
"Lady Ilzi, the gods bless you and your family," he said, grinning down at her. He had never wanted to see it come to this, but he couldn't deny that he was grateful she had come to his aid.
Feet pounded towards them from across the courtyard. "Majesty! They are attacking the wall to the west of here!"
Kho gave Razem a pleading look. "Majesty," he whispered, "please let me deal with this. Take yourself to safety, have supper brought for you and the lady, and be safe."
Razem lowered his voice and leaned in. "Only if you swear to be safe yourself, Emran," he murmured. Then he raised his voice so everyone could hear. "Cousin, come with me to the war room," he told Ilzi. "Bring your captain. General Kho, see to this new threat, then return to us there."
Kho bowed and dashed off while Ilzi and an armed man who looked to be closer to twenty than thirty followed Razem back into the palace. "This is Captain Rone, your majesty," she said. "He is captain of my personal and household guard, who I have brought to your defense. One hundred and eleven men in all, cousin."
"That many?" Razem said in wonder. It hadn't looked like so large a group, but he knew fear made the enemy's numbers larger and your allies' numbers smaller. "You have my thanks, Ilzi."
The smile she gave him was grave, her initial excitement fading. "We lost nearly twenty in the assault. Some of my troops are not very experienced, I must admit. But they all love you, cousin, and to a man, they volunteered to come with me."
Razem looked over to Captain Rone, who hung on Ilzi's words as if he couldn't get enough of her voice. He flushed when he saw the king looking at him, but Razem only smiled. "Captain Rone, well met. You have my thanks."
"Majesty," the man choked, and snapped out a salute. Fighting a smile, Razem answered it with one of his own. Thank the gods for Ilzi and Rone. He had needed some show of support, and they had given more than a show. They had broken through the barricade and demonstrated it could be done.
When they reached the war room, he found Lady Tarra waiting in the hall outside under the watchful eyes of the guards. Razem surveyed her and then gestured her to follow them inside. Gendo was within, laying out a tray of cold meats and cheeses.
"Thank you, Gendo. Bring wine and bread, and then you may retire."
Gendo bowed wordlessly, but Razem knew his manservant would wait up until he saw Razem asleep in a chair, just as he had done last night.
"Lady Tarra, I do not know if you have met my cousin, Lady Ilzi." It was likely they had met, but Razem didn't have the patience for protocol tonight, just as he didn't care to take time for the proper mode of introductions. "Ilzi, Lady of the Fifth Family, this is Tarra, younger daughter of the Seventh."
The two young woman made grave curtsies to each other, as was proper, but they both seemed to realize Razem was uninterested in formalities. Ilzi smiled at Tarra and then turned back to Razem.
"Before we attacked, I had Rone send spies through the western quarter of the city. We were nearly to the Dockside Gate when the fighting broke out. It took us some time to figure out what was happening, and by that time the gate was closed to us. We fought our way free to an alley we could hold and regroup."
"I thank the gods you are safe," Razem said. "Can you tell me the situation near the docks?"
"Better." Ilzi strode over to the table and stabbed her finger at the map. "The red stones are rebel strong points? What are the blue?"
"Unknown loyalty, but significant targets," Razem replied. "The docks office and levy house, there, and the royal bank, there." He pointed as he named them.
"What color for loyalist?" Ilzi demanded.
"Gold, of course."
She snorted and scooped up two of the gold stones. "The levy house is besieged, but my scouts report at least three score men inside, and they're holding their own. I wanted to try to take it, but Rone insisted on getting me to safety first."
"As well he should,"
Razem agreed. "But do you think the levy house could be relieved?" he added, looking over at Rone.
"Yes, majesty." The man's voice sounded strangled, but he cleared his throat and came to attention. "I don't delude myself that I’m the man to do it, but I would be happy to place my soldiers at the command of one of your men."
Razem nodded. "As soon as Kho returns, he'll assign you somewhere. I want the levy house relieved. For that matter, I want control of the docks. We need to get a ship out to sea as soon as possible. I want word sent to Salishok, to transfer troops back to the capital at once."
Ilzi cleared her throat. "I wasn't finished with my report, cousin," she said. "In addition to the levy house, I believe we could liberate the docks entirely. There was fighting down at one end, but it looked to me as if the sailors were fighting against the rebels."
"Well done, Ilzi!" Razem cried. "I am very pleased with you. Come, let us sup together. Have you eaten?"
"Not since noon," she said, "and not much to speak of then." She followed Razem over to the table and settled into a chair.
"Join us, Lady Tarra. Captain Rone." Razem smiled as Gendo reappeared, carrying two bottles of wine. "We will not stand on ceremony just now."
Gendo poured the wine, and for a few minutes they ate in silence. Finally Ilzi cleared her throat. "Cousin, is it true what I heard, that Lord Arisanat leads the rebellion?"
Razem closed his eyes, but to his relief, Tarra answered.
"It is true, Lady Ilzi. My mother is allied with him. He signed a betrothal agreement and said he would make me queen, but I have no wish to be queen."
Razem opened his eyes to see his cousin staring at Tarra. "Did you inform on Burojan?" Tarra only lowered her gaze, but Ilzi recognized it for agreement. "Well done, Tarra! For my cousin's sake, you and I shall be friends."
Tarra gave a little laugh that sounded as much sad as happy. "And how Lord Burojan would twist to hear that," she said softly. "He wished me to befriend you and turn you to his cause."
"As if that would happen," Ilzi said scornfully. "But come, we aren't so different in age, are we?"
"I am nineteen, Lady Ilzi."
"And I am rising seventeen," Ilzi replied, which was a considerable exaggeration, since she had only turned sixteen at the Spring Evener, but Razem didn't bother to correct her. "We shall be very good friends, Lady Tarra, and I must introduce you to some of my other friends. I think they shall all approve of you."
Near the end of dinner, Kho returned, sweaty and moving stiffly. Razem stood. "Emran. Are you injured?"
"It is nothing, majesty. I stepped wrong and twisted my knee."
"Still, we will have it seen to. Gendo, fetch a healer." As his manservant bowed and left, Razem gestured Kho to a chair. "Sit. I will pour for you." He carried a plate of food and a cup of wine to Kho, whose dark eyes gleamed with warmth as the king served him.
Razem made himself wait a full five minutes while Kho took his refreshment, but finally he could hold back the questions no longer. "What happened?"
"It was an all-out assault on the palace walls, majesty. Birona's troops led, with Burojan's and the city guard in support." Kho drained his cup. "We repelled them, but not easily. I don't think they'll attack under cover of darkness, but we are heating pitch just in case."
"Gods forbid we have to use it," Razem murmured. He sighed.
"What are we going to do, Razem?" Ilzi whispered. When he looked over at her, the high spirits of earlier had fled entirely, and she looked at him with wide eyes. Razem was unable to dredge up even the hint of a smile, though he wished to reassure her.
"Keep fighting. I am king, and I cannot compromise with a traitor." His voice broke. "Even if I love him," he added in a whisper. Gods, Aris, what drove you to this? What could I have done differently to keep you from this betrayal?
Ilzi slipped her hand into his and squeezed it gently.
***
Arisanat knew, somehow, when his chamberlain showed Lady Talt into his study alone, that his bride-to-be had betrayed him. Why else would Talt be here without Tarra, when this was the safest possible place for them to be? He had planned to send for a cleric as soon as Tarra arrived. He had even considered sending for the cleric beforehand and having him waiting. He felt a sudden twinge of relief that he had decided against it. At least this way he would look less a fool.
He steepled his hands in front of him and gave Talt a hard look. "Lady Talt, where is my betrothed?"
He was surprised by the woman's red-rimmed eyes. "She...she has defied me, Arisanat." Talt faltered, then held out a folded and crumpled paper. "She left a letter for her sister." The woman's voice broke. Was she so distraught that her daughter had not confided in her?
Well, she should be.
Arisanat snatched the letter from her hand and unfolded it. He didn't want to read it. He stared at Talt, his gaze hard, until she looked away. She had read it, then. She knew what it said, and that he wouldn't like it.
My dear sister, I am writing to you because I know I cannot confide in Mother. I beg you, keep this letter from her as long as possible. I don't know what she and my lord betrothed will do when they learn what I have done. But first, let me tell you that I love you. I know the past years have been a trial for you, the way Mother has pursued any match that might seem advantageous—
Arisanat skipped ahead. He wasn't interested in sisterly affection. He wanted to know what Tarra had done—though some part of him knew already.
That he is so much older does not bother me. It was always a possibility, that my husband would not be my age, that my marriage would not be a love match. And once I would have believed a marriage to Arisanat Burojan the best thing that could happen to me. He is handsome, certainly. But...I see no kindness in him. I could forgive him if he was not entirely sane. But there is no question—he chose this path with his eyes open. He plots against the king, Tezira, and I cannot be part of it. I know Mother will never forgive me, but I pray you will.
Talt clasped her hands in front of her when Arisanat looked up at her. "Tezira did not bring this to me until our attack had begun." Her voice was stiff. "I have failed you, my lord."
Arisanat wished he could pretend it didn't hurt. His first marriage had not been a love match either, but he and Janira had learned to love one another. He had looked forward to training Tarra to his likes and dislikes and learning hers. He had thought her shy and virginal rather than sly and conniving. What a disappointment that she had deceived him so thoroughly.
"Well." He considered his next words carefully. Talt had failed him, and he could not have her fail him again. He could not let her think it was of no consequence. But she was properly repentant, and he could hardly blame her for Tarra having a mind of her own. It was something he admired, after all—a woman who thought for herself. Azmei had been just such a woman.
Then again, Azmei had chosen peace over Venra's memory.
He clenched his fist around the letter and looked at Talt. "Birona has just returned from an assault on the palace. Unsuccessful, but he swears that he will do better next time. Belnat is not here, but I expect him soon."
Arisanat saw her moue of distaste at the mention of Birona, but he didn't care. The man had been a more valuable ally than Talt, after all, and had actually commanded the assault. He had not fought, there was no question of that, but he had at least been willing to show himself standing against the prince—the king, Arisanat reminded himself. Razem was king now.
No matter. Soon Razem would be dead and Arisanat would be king.
"Go wait with Birona in the drawing room," he ordered. "I will join you both presently."
He watched her leave the room, her head bowed, and let the smile fade from his face. He couldn't deny that Tarra's betrayal hurt. He knew he was pursuing the proper course. He was going to stop Razem from destroying this kingdom. But how could Tarra have so badly underestimated him? He would have been kind to her. He would have made it a point to please her, in the bedroom and out of
it. Why could she not see that he had offered her everything?
He had planned this so carefully, and still everything was spiraling out of control. What would Venra do at this juncture? Venra had ever been the better strategist. He would surely have seen some use for Tarra. Arisanat had an heir, it was true, but wouldn't it look good for him to have a queen, someone young and beautiful and agreeable to temper public sentiment about the coup?
Arisanat rubbed his forehead, staring at the dancing figurines on his desk. They were made by desert artisans, little glass sculptures of horses. They had been a gift from Venra. What to do? What to do?
Birona had said he could take the walls with one more push, but Arisanat wasn't sure. Tarra's betrayal had given Razem time to prepare his defenses.
Someone tapped at the door and he snapped, "Enter!"
His chamberlain came in. "My lord. I believe Lady Talt and Lord Birona plot against you."
Arisanat clenched his fist and followed his chamberlain into the secret room between his study and the drawing room.
"—she is a better judge of character than you, Talt." That was Birona's voice, indulgent and superior. Arisanat found suddenly that he hated the man, hated his smug superiority and his calm confidence. Why had he chosen this man for an ally? His shrewdness had seemed advantageous, but now it was like a dagger pointed at Arisanat's back. "How embarrassing for you."
"And are you so certain, Lord Birona, that Belnat remains true to us?" Talt's voice was tart, defensive.
Birona was pacing. Arisanat heard the slow, plodding footsteps. "He has no way out now. We know he betrayed the king, and he cannot use the same ploy that Tarra has already taken. No, he will stay true."
"Then where is he?"
A good question, Arisanat admitted to himself. Where was Belnat? He should have been here half an hour past.
"He was overseeing the evacuation of his family."
Talt laughed bitterly. "Are you certain he won't simply evacuate with them? I should have done so."
Stormseer (Storms in Amethir Book 3) Page 38