“I don’t understand…”
“Put me under your thumb?” Her hazel eyes stared defiantly at him.
Not under my thumb, exactly, he thought, but feigned surprise. “Of course not.”
“Then how are you going to punish me?”
“By offering you a glass of wine and a chance to see a sunset such as you have never seen before.”
Jenrosa shook her head. “I’m not sure I heard you right.”
The prince pointed to the window. On the stone sill were two glasses and a bottle. Her eyes widened in surprise. She had never drunk from glass before. In fact, she could not remember ever having drunk from a bottle. He waved her forward, then with some effort managed to open the shutters.
“See for yourself,” he offered, and moved out of the way so she could see through the window.
She moved in his place and looked out, gasping at what she saw. The whole city was spread out before her like a glorious map. Kestrel Bay shone like liquid gold as the sun set far, far to the west, behind a range of mountains that were dim and dark in the distance. Seagulls played above the harbor, and farther out she could just discern the long, splayed wings of kestrels swooping low over the waves.
“It is… Oh, it is beautiful.”
The prince joined her. He pointed south, to a green land mass that rose from the waters like a mirage. “Lurisia,” he said. Then he pointed to the mountains in the west. “And that is the Long Spine, the farthest border of Aman.” Finally, he pointed east. “That land mass is Chandra, and beyond that you can just make out the great Sea Between.”
He pulled back again and carefully poured wine into the two glasses. “This is a bottle from the queen’s own reserve.” His eyes dulled for a moment, then he said, “Sorry. The king’s reserve.” He offered her one of the glasses, and she took it hesitantly.
“Some punishment,” she said.
Kumul made sure the last of the guests at the wake had been ushered out of the palace before starting his inspection of the night watch. He began his round at the main gate and worked west from there, making sure the guards on roster were at their appointed places and that torches were lit along the palace walls and over each entrance way. He completed the circuit an hour after he started, and stood in the courtyard for a while watching busy palace servants sweeping and wiping and polishing the great hall to make it ready for business as usual the next day.
Business as usual, he thought grimly. Constable under a king who doesn’t like me, and who is friends with the Twenty Houses, none of whom like me.
For a moment he wished he had given himself the night off to visit one of his many female friends in the city. Yet he knew that on this night of all nights he had cause to be on duty. It was his last act of service for Ushama, his dead queen, and once-wife to his beloved general.
Ager joined him, looking tired. “Where did you disappear to?” Kumul asked.
“Some of our guests had broken into the training arena. There were empty flasks and bottles everywhere, and some of them had used our equipment for practice.”
Kumul grinned. “Did any impale themselves?”
Ager shook his head. “Regrettably, no. The arena’s cleaned up now, and I’ve got a couple of the new recruits stowing away our gear.”
“Well, check with them, then get some sleep. Tomorrow’s going to be as busy as today. Berayma will want to talk to us about his plans for the coronation. I’m just going in now to see him before retiring myself.”
“As you say.” Ager left, and Kumul surveyed the courtyard and gate one more time. Everything seemed to be in its place. He resented it. He felt there should be some change, some sign, after the death of the woman who had ruled here for a quarter of a century.
But she was a ghost now, and ghosts had no need of palaces. He grunted to himself and went through the great hall to the Long Walk and made for Berayma’s chambers. Before he got there, he heard running steps behind him and Dejanus called out his name. The Life Guard looked very worried.
“Kumul, I’ve found something.”
“What?” Kumul asked sharply, suddenly alert.
“It’s best you see for yourself. Follow me.”
Without waiting for a reply, Dejanus led the way back to the great hall and then through a door leading to the servants’ quarters. Kumul followed unquestioningly. Whatever had rattled Dejanus was something he wanted to see for himself. The Life Guard was setting a hard pace, stopping only to get a torch, but finally slowed when they reached one of the corridors leading to the cellars, part of the very first palace built hundreds of years ago, and dark and wet with mildew.
“It’s around here somewhere… There! Do you see it?” Dejanus was pointing to a spot on the cobblestones.
“I can’t see my own feet in this gloom. Lower the torch.”
Dejanus did as asked. “It’s fresh blood, and there’s a knife…”
“I still can’t see—”
Before he could finish, something slammed against the back of his skull. The dark air seemed to explode in his eyes. As he collapsed onto the cobblestones he heard Dejanus’ feet running away, their sound echoing in his mind like the beat of his own heart. He tried to call out, but his senses fell away one by one and he knew no more.
Berayma rubbed his temples with the palms of his hands. Since late morning he had had a nagging headache, and the day’s warmth and the afternoon’s drinking had only made it worse.
“Could I get Dr. Trion for you?” Orkid asked solicitously.
Berayma shook his head. “It will go of its own accord. Let’s get this business out of the way so I can get some rest. We have a busy day tomorrow.”
“Indeed, your Majesty. You wished to see me about Prince Lynan. Is something the matter?”
Berayma did not want to discuss Areava’s offer to Lynan with the three other men gathered in his room. He did not yet trust the chancellor as his mother had done, and it was no business of Dejanus‘, who had appeared to let the king know that the constable had been unavoidably detained, and considering how Harnan Beresard collected gossip like gold coins, Berayma thought his private secretary probably knew already.
“Lynan has to consolidate his position as quickly as possible or, Usharna’s will or not, he will find himself the object of continuous derision, court rumor and suspicion. He needs to be set on his path.”
“Your Majesty?”
“I want him sent on a mission to Chandra as soon as possible, and I want you to accompany him.”
“Your Majesty?”
“Must you always say that?”
Orkid looked ready to repeat his phrase, but closed his mouth in time. “I’m sorry. Why and when?”
“Why? Because I want him given the opportunity to prove himself as soon as possible. I also want him out of Kendra, so people, especially those in the Twenty Houses, have time to get used to the idea of his holding one of the Keys of Power. Chandra has been one of our most loyal subject kingdoms for hundreds of years, so the embassy will be relatively easy for Lynan to carry out. I need you to come up with some excuse, and to arrange for the Chandra Commission here to offer him an invitation.”
“That should not be hard, your Majesty. I’m sure King Tomar would be glad to welcome the prince; he and Lynan’s father were friends, I believe.”
“Exactly. Can you arrange it for autumn?”
“I see no difficulty with that.”
The king turned to the private secretary. “In the meantime, Harnan, send for Lynan. I want to discuss some issues with him tonight.”
“Of course, your Majesty.”
“And then get yourself to bed, old man. I will need you refreshed tomorrow, but don’t come before mid-morning; I won’t have got through all the papers you’ve already given me by then.”
Harnan bowed and had started to leave when Orkid said, “Must you see Lynan tonight? You are already feeling overtired…” Harnan hesitated at the doorway.