“On his own initiative?”
Gudon shrugged. “No way to tell. Were you hurt?”
“My ear’s numb and I hear bells inside my head.”
“At least you’re not hearing air whistle through a cut throat.”
Other Chetts appeared, carrying torches. In a short time they were surrounded by a small crowd.
“We should move on in case others from the Ocean clan make an appearance and decide to take their revenge,” Gudon said in a low voice.
They soon left the crowd behind. “If Katan was after us to weaken Lynan’s position,” Ager said, “and Katan was only one among however many disgruntled chiefs, then they could try and kill Lynan himself.”
“Truth.”
“He needs a bodyguard.”
“Truth.”
“And a bodyguard needs a captain. Someone who knows how Chetts think. Someone who will choose only the most loyal warriors.”
Gudon considered the suggestion. “Do you have an ideas?”
“I’m sure something will come to you,” Ager said, and then: “I don’t think you’ll have to look far.”
Chapter 11
Areava was cold in her bedchamber. There was a fire blazing in the hearth and the morning sun shone through the east window, but still she was cold. Her handmaids busied themselves with her hair and then dressed her. She could not look at them. When her gown was finished, the handmaids put on her rings and her simple gold tiara, and then a wreath of white star flowers, the only ones that bloomed in winter. Finally, they carefully draped the Key of the Scepter—star-shaped with a vertically placed scepter in its center—and the Key of the Sword—square-shaped with two crossed swords pierced by a spear—around her neck, their heavy gold chains a symbol of their burden as well as their power.
Someone knocked on the door and it opened slowly. Har-nan Beresard’s old face appeared. “Your Majesty?”
“You can come in, Harnan. I am finished dressing.”
He took a few steps, then stopped and gawked at her. “Your Majesty! You are...” His mouth worked, but he could not make the word come out.
Areava turned to face her secretary. Her gown, layers of white wool with individual threads of gold through it, swished on the wooden floor. Its tight-fitting bodice revealed her slender form to best effect, and the full skirt seemed to flow from her waist. Harnan shook his head in wonder. He thought if winter could be personified, it would look like his queen. Tall and pale, severe, achingly beautiful. All but the eyes, which seemed lost.
“What is wrong?” he asked.
Areava nodded to her handmaids and they quickly scurried from the room. “Am I doing the right thing?” she asked.
Harnan blinked. He had never expected to hear the queen voice that question. “Your Majesty?”
“Marrying Sendarus. Is it the right thing to do?”
Harnan spread his hands helplessly. “All Grenda Lear rejoices. They are happy for you. Overjoyed.”
Areava looked disappointed, but nodded. Harnan blushed, knowing he had said the wrong thing but not knowing what would have been the right thing.
“What did you want?”
“To let you know that King Marin has arrived.”
“Oh. Good.”
“He wanted to know if you wanted to see him right away.”
She shook her head. “Let him greet his son first. They have not seen each other for several months. I will have many opportunities after the wedding to talk with the king ... with my father-in-law.” She swallowed.
“As you wish.” Harnan bowed and moved to leave, but hesitated. He could not help feeling she should not be left alone.
“Is there something else?” Areava asked tonelessly.
“No, your Majesty.” He bowed again and went to the door. It opened before he got there and Olio entered. Harnan breathed a silent sigh of relief.
“Good m-m-morning, sister,” Olio said brightly.
“Am I doing the right thing?” she asked him immediately.
Olio threw a glance at Harnan; the secretary raised his eyebrows but said nothing, then left.
“About what?”
“Don’t be obtuse,” she snapped, then closed her eyes. “I’m sorry.”
“Do you love Sendarus?” Olio asked carefully.
“With all my heart.”
“Then you are concerned for the kingdom.”
Areava nodded. “I am its queen.”
“You are also a woman. No kingdom demands its ruler stay celibate.” He smiled immediately at his own choice of words, knowing that celibacy was not the problem. “Or indeed, unwed.”
“But outside of the Twenty Houses.”
“Our m-m-mother wed outside of the Twe—” Olio’s mouth snapped shut, and he cursed himself.
“And produced Lynan.”
“You are not m-m-marrying a commoner,” Olio said. “You are m-m-marrying a p-p-prince.”
“And I am marrying an alliance.”
“You cannot m-m-make an alliance with a subject p-p-province.”
“By marrying Sendarus I raise Aman from its knees. It need no longer genuflect before Kendra.”
“M-m-maybe not a bad thing.”
Areava looked at him with something like desperation. “Do you mean that?”
“Yes, if Grenda Lear is to b—b-be m-m—more than Kendra.”
“I want to believe that, but wonder if I am making excuses for my love for Sendarus.”
“The p-p-power of the Twenty Houses m-must be diminished. Introducing new royal b-b-blood will help to do that.” Areava did not seem convinced. He went to her and took her hands in his own; they were surprisingly cold to the touch. “Although I do not think you have your equal anywhere in Theare, I suspect Sendarus comes closest. Your union will strengthen the kingdom, of that I am sure.”
Areava leaned over and kissed her brother’s cheek.
He grinned bashfully and stood back, spreading her arms so he could look at her properly. “You are m-m-magnificent.”
“I feel like ice,” she said dimly.
Olio glanced at her with concern, but she would not meet his gaze. “You will warm up when Sendarus is by your side,” he said, and hoped it was true.
The palace clerk Harnan assigned to guide Marin to his son waited patiently for the Amanite king at the entrance to the guests’ wing. Marin was still looking over the city from the vantage point of the palace, his aides and several of his guards by his side. The clerk could tell from the expression on the king’s face that he was amazed at what he saw. He was not far from the truth, but what was going through the king’s mind at that point was a more complex rush of emotions.
Look at the size of this place. I knew it was huge, but had no idea what that meant. His own capital, Pila, was counted among the largest cities on the continent, but Kendra was on a different scale altogether. And my son will be wed to its mistress.
He shook his head and smiled ruefully to himself. Kendra had so impressed him that he easily mistook Kendra for the whole kingdom, and for the first time understood how Kendra’s citizens could fall into arrogance. Their pride is not misplaced.
He heard the clerk clear his throat. He turned from the view and followed the clerk into the wing, then stopped again. Stone walls rose on either side of him like the sides of mountains. The ceiling seemed so far away it could almost have been sky. He noticed his companions were equally awestruck. We must seem like nothing more than country bumpkins to this scribbler, Marin thought. “Well, maybe we are.”
“Your Majesty?” the clerk asked. He looks like his brother the chancellor, he thought, only shorter and grayer. He was not sure he relished the idea of two such large and stern-looking Amanites being in the palace at the same time. If only they could shave their beards...
Marin shook his head. “Where is my son?”