CHAPTER 19
 
OTHUR CHUCKLED UNDER HIS BREATH AS HIS ladywife faced them all down.
“Lara is a Daughter of Xy and Queen, not some milkmaid brought to ruin by her lover. We’ll have a proper ceremony, tomorrow night in the throne room, conducted by the Archbishop himself. I’ll not have those nobles whispering that the deed was done in secrecy, with naught but friends as witnesses.”
“We’ll have Durst sign the certificate as witness,” Heath suggested, a malicious look on his face. “Lanfer as well.”
“We’ve time enough for dresses and flowers and true honor done to the bride,” Anna said with satisfaction.
“But the Justice . . . the babe . . .” Lara said.
“The Justice in the morning, bright and early,” Anna declared. “You can rest up as we prepare for the wedding. The babe will wait.”
“The babe wouldn’t dare emerge to face her,” Othur whispered to Heath.
Heath nodded.
“That’s settled then.” Anna lifted her head and gave them all a glare. “Since Keir is to ask his question at the dinner, we had best be about it. Marcsi and the others can serve without me. But we must dress, quickly!”
“Atira, Amyu, Yveni.” Lara reached for Keir’s hand. “It’s tradition that the couple be escorted to the ceremony by female friends and family. Will you escort me?”
Amyu looked at the others, startled to be included. “We’d be honored, Warprize,” Atira said, speaking for all of them.
“Ander, Rafe,” Keir spoke up. “Prest, Heath, Marcus. Will you escort me?”
Rafe laughed out loud. “Simus and Joden will dance in anger when they hear that they missed this! Yes, Warlord.”
Prest and Ander both nodded as well, but Marcus shook his head. “No, Warlord.”
“Marcus,” Lara said. “We owe you so much. Please.”
The scarred man focused his one eye on Lara, and Othur watched that harsh face soften. “I will watch, but no more. I would not offend our elements, or your gods, in any way.”
“The Sun God takes no offense in battle scars,” Iain said quietly.
“I will not risk it.” Marcus glared at the boy, even as Lara gave him a grateful glance. “Besides, there’s more than enough warm bodies for a ceremony.” He had to turn his head to see Keir. “Let me serve in the shadows, as I have for many a year now.”
“Enough talk!” Anna scolded. “Dinner!”
 
 
JUST AS THEY WERE LEAVING, HEATH RAISED AN eyebrow at Atira and nodded toward Iain.
Atira knew that look well. Heath had used it time and again when they’d hunted together—when he wanted her to move up and flank their prey.
Heath went out the door with the young man, but Atira waited just a step so as to be behind them.
“So . . .” Heath fell into step with Iain. “You could perform the marriage ceremony?”
“Of course,” Iain responded. “I am a full priest, in service to the castle. Of course, it would be presumptuous of me to do so for the royal family, since the Archbishop usually sees to their needs.”
“But you could,” Heath pressed, “if you didn’t receive instructions to the contrary.”
“True enough,” Iain agreed slowly. He looked back over his shoulder at Atira. “Why do I think this is more than idle speculation?”
“Say, if you sequestered yourself for a time,” Heath said, “where you might not be found for a few hours. Then—”
Iain stopped so abruptly that Atira almost ran into him. The young man gave her a sharp glance, as if suddenly aware that he was being stalked. Whether conscious or not, he shifted so that his back was to the wall. He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Heath. “Subterfuge.”
“What?” Atira asked.
“Maybe.” Heath crossed his arms over his chest in response. “But tell me this—is there anything in the doctrines of our faith that would forbid the marriage of the Queen and the Overlord?”
Iain thought for a moment, then with a huff ran his fingers through his hair, which made the unruly mess of curls even more so. “No,” he said with a sigh. “There is not.”
“And if.” Heath raised a finger. “If, mind you, the Archbishop were to forbid such a marriage, the only reason would be his own personal feelings or those of the people influencing him, yes?”
“What would you have me do?” Iain said sharply. “I may be young and new to my post, but I am not stupid. You would manipulate the situation so that I never receive those instructions?”
“Yes,” Heath said. “In a heartbeat.”
“I cannot disobey the Archbishop,” Iain said slowly.
“If you were rushed into a room with a pregnant woman about to give birth, and her intended was frantic to make things right for the babe, would you marry them?” Heath asked.
“In a heartbeat,” Iain admitted ruefully.
Heath relaxed slightly. “I happen to know that when Xymund took the throne, he crated up a number of old books in his father’s chambers and had them stored.”
Iain looked at the floor for a moment, clearly thinking. Atira looked at Heath, but he shook his head at her. The young man seemed to come to a conclusion, because with a sigh, he shook his head, as if conceding defeat. “Old books?” Iain raised an eyebrow, interested despite his reservations. “How old?”
“I think a few date back to the time of Xyson. There may even be scrolls in there, for all I know,” Heath said, taking Iain’s elbow. “You know, Lara’s old room is still empty. It’s small, but with a nice hearth. I could arrange for the crate to be delivered there so that you could check the books, see if they’re damaged. A few may even be religious texts.”
“Do you know the names of the authors?” Iain asked as they moved down the corridor at a slightly faster pace. “Or titles? I’m especially interested in books of the time of Xyson. They speak of the monsters that attacked Xy, with wings said to blot out the sun—”
“I’ll have a guard at the door, and they can bring you whatever food and drink you need,” Heath said with a smile.
“How many books?” Iain walked even faster, taking the lead. “Tell them to have a care with the crate. It’s easy enough to damage them, especially if—”
Atira leaned over to Heath. “Do you think he will remember to eat?”
Heath grinned at her. “Let’s hurry,” he said softly. “I want him hidden away before the Archbishop arrives.”
 
 
OTHUR STOOD BEFORE HIS SEAT IN THE GREAT Hall and tried not to appear too pleased.
He had every reason to be, after all. Anna had enough warning that she’d unleashed a small army of servants to scrub the hall down and have the various banners and tapestries taken down, beaten, and rehung. The room glowed with light and color.
Behind the high seat, Anna had hung the tapestry that had been in the old King’s chambers for years. The weaving showed an airion, a winged horse-eagle, the old symbol of the House of Xy, fallen out of use during Xymund’s reign. But Xyron had been fond of the image, and Anna thought it only fitting that the banner be displayed again, along with the Sword of Xy. Othur had to admit, it looked impressive, hung behind the table where Lara and Keir would preside.
Othur sighed in pure satisfaction. The hall was also filled with the nobility, all in their finest, taking their positions at the tables and talking. No matter their political leanings, people were curious, and a chance to see and be seen was not to be missed.
Durst, grim as ever, was seated with his lady. The Herald had clustered Durst and his supporters together toward the center of the room. Although the old courtier would never admit it, Othur was fairly certain he’d done that on purpose.
A slight movement above, and Othur glanced at the balcony that surrounded the hall. Heath stepped into the light for a moment, then back into the shadows, probably checking the placement of the guards.
Pride swelled in his heart. Heath was a son to be proud of. Whether the boy realized it or not, he had the training to take Othur’s place in a few years. Heath had a sharp eye for security and the intelligence to run the castle well. The time he’d spent on the Plains had strengthened him even more.
Another movement caught his eye—a flash of blond hair and a glint off armor. Atira was up there as well, right by Heath’s side.
Sun God, his boy had it bad for her. Not a bad thing, to Othur’s way of thinking. He wanted his son to be as blessed as he was in his marriage.
Anna leaned over slightly and spoke under the noise in the hall. “The Archbishop is looking a bit ill.”
Othur glanced over to where the Archbishop was standing behind his chair, Eln beside him. “I’ll bet he is,” Othur said with a smile. “I’ll just bet he is.”
 
 
DURST STOOD BEHIND HIS ASSIGNED SEAT WITH A bitter taste in his mouth and watched Othur gloat.
Traitor. Worse than traitor, for cavorting and supporting the whore-queen and her Firelander lover. Durst’s fingers trembled on the back of his chair. That bastard still had a living son, and he had the audacity to stand and smile, like a fat, gloating worm.
He fought to control his rage. He took a deep breath and fought not to glare at the Archbishop. The fool was here, contrary to Browdus’s promises, seated in a position of honor. If he was challenged, he’d collapse like a new lamb. Damn Othur. Damn Browdus—he’d been supposed to prevent this.
Lanfer was at the end of the hall, his expression sour and angry. Durst could only hope the younger man would control his temper long enough to get through the meal. Although he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his own temper. And the hate in his bowels would make it impossible to eat.
Othur was still smiling, and Durst wanted nothing more than for the Sun God to strike him dead. Othur hadn’t lost two sons in this battle—the first against the Firelanders and the second in an ill-advised attack on Xylara. He hadn’t had to hold Beatrice as she’d wept her heart out in his arms, or face a future with no heir.
He glanced at his silent wife, standing behind her chair, her hands resting quietly on its back, her eyes cast down. Something had broken within her with the deaths of her boys. Then to have to nurse him through his own injury when the Warlord had attacked without warning or provocation . . . Durst took a deep breath as he looked at her bent head.
There would be other ways, other opportunities, even if the Archbishop bent with the wind. This wasn’t over.
But as the Sun God was his witness, he’d see Othur and his wife weeping over the dead body of their son. Lanfer would be more than willing. And more than able.
With that, Durst had to be satisfied. For now.
 
 
ATIRA CRANED FORWARD AS THE HERALD POUNDED his staff three times on the floor. “Lords and ladies—Xylara, Queen of Xy and the Overlord, Keir of the Cat.”
Everyone bowed as Lara and Keir made their way up the central aisle between the tables and took their places at the high table. Marcus and Amyu were waiting there, behind the seats. Prest, Rafe, Yveni, and Ander took up their positions around the table, making every effort to be seen. Atira nodded in satisfaction. The Warprize was well guarded, and should anyone try an attack, she had her bow at the ready.
Lara was wearing one of the oddly shaped Xyian dresses that seemed more like a large tent than a garment. Atira had never seen so much fabric to cover one woman before. It was a lovely blue color, like the sky in spring. Just for a moment, Atira wondered how many garments Lara had, and what it would feel like to have different clothing for every day.
Lara was waiting until the room settled, each person standing behind their chair. “Lord and ladies, my thanks for your welcome. I would take this opportunity to dedicate this feast to the memory of my father, Xyron, Warrior-King.” She raised a mug of kavage that Marcus handed to her. “To Xyron.”
“Xyron.” The hall echoed with the sound of raised voices as all drank.
With that, Lara sat, with Keir a heartbeat behind. Everyone in the room sat then, taking their seats with a murmur of talk.
“Devoted One, I am glad to see you.” Lara leaned forward to smile at the man. “I am glad to see that you were well enough to join us this evening. Would you bless this meal?”
Atira couldn’t see the man’s face, but she watched the back of his neck flush as he stood, pushing his chair back so abruptly it almost toppled over. “Your Majesty.” The man’s voice was thin and shaky. “Your Majesty, I fear . . . I would not offend the Overlord. His faith is not ours.”
“I take no offense.” Keir’s voice was a low pleasant rumble. “Please proceed.”
The Archbishop sagged a bit, and then seemed to gather strength from somewhere. He straightened up. “Your Majesty, I fear I am unable to offer a blessing for this meal.”
“No?” Lara asked, all innocence. “Why so, Devoted One?”
The man’s voice cracked. “Your Majesty . . .” He trembled in his robes. “Your Majesty, I cannot offer a blessing to a couple living in sin, outside of the bonds of holy matrimony.”
His words echoed through the silent room.
Lara looked pale, but her voice was calm. “Devoted One, the Overlord and I are bonded according to his beliefs and the customs of his people.”
“His people,” the Archbishop said. “Not ours. Our faith requires—”
Keir rose from his seat. “It seems I must deal with this.” He drew his sword and placed one hand on the table, leaping over it.
The Archbishop fainted dead away.