Rebel Song (25 page)

CHAPTER 34

The events of the past few days swirled in her head as Elyra stepped bravely into the council meeting, feeling as though she were voluntarily walking into a viper pit. When the High Council confirmed that Pantone would resume leadership in the interim, she nearly burst with rage. But what could she do? Begging exceptions of the law now would only open a box best kept tightly closed. She made her way through the room dressed in her most serious gray suit, feeling the curious eyes on her, staring into the depths of her soul and making her want to crawl under a rock and hide. But she couldn’t do that—she was still the princess after all. She would show the rest of them that she was a force to be reckoned with. She nervously straightened her jacket and walked to her usual seat, ignoring the temptation to take her father’s seat in an open act of defiance. The room felt vast and empty without the king.

Slowly the council members trickled into the great chamber, conversing in a blur of low, monotonous hums she couldn’t process. Finally, Pantone filled the doorway. His thick waist tested the strength of a silver-buttoned black suit coat, but his arrogant eyes still gave him the look of a man in charge. He sauntered into the room and took a seat in his usual position, leaving the King’s seat vacant—an uncharacteristically humble move.
Well played
.
Well played,
she thought.

The room quieted as Pantone settled into his position and looked out at the council members. They all turned to him with an equal blend of anticipation and nerves. It had been nearly twenty-five years since a contingency had been necessary, outdating nearly everyone at court. Pantone took a few moments to look at each of them, then closed his eyes and nodded with feigned melancholy.

“Thank you all for being here today. It is with a heavy heart that I must assume leadership and carry out our regular proceedings without the presence of His Grace.” Elyra did not bother to contain an eye roll at his rhetoric. “We will continue to send our deepest prayers out to God and His Sants for the king’s swift recovery. Meanwhile, we have a duty to the nation and the work must continue.”

“How fares the king?” Minister Brigg asked.

Pantone expelled a somber, melodramatic sigh.

“I’m afraid he is not well as it is. The very best doctors continue to work effortlessly for his recovery, but his affliction is still not quite understood.”

“I was under the impression the king suffered a stroke,” Brita Falcon said dryly, examining her pale pink manicure.

Pantone glared, then smiled curtly.

“That was the initial prognosis but the doctors have not yet ruled out other possibilities. As a servant of this council, I will be sure to keep everyone abreast of any progress. Now, I’m afraid we must get on with our agenda. Henri would wish it so.” Pantone retrieved a piece of paper from the pile in front of him and narrowed his eyes as he read.

“The first item is the results from the quarterly vote on the tax increase. The measure has passed with 8-2 county governor support and a two-thirds vote in council. The measure is thus set to take effect in January of next year.”

Elyra glanced at Brita who was visibly fuming. She flicked Elyra a quick glance and shook her head with a look of frustration.

“The next item we must discuss is one of delicate proportions. As you all know, the situation in Suell is not improving. Suelli forces killed 10 Arelanda soldiers three days ago during a routine border check. Emperor Dubis’ forces still hold our military camp hostage. He refuses to free them and refuses a ceasefire until his demands are met.”

“And what are his demands, Minister?” Elyra spoke up with a hint of mocking in her tone. Pantone snarled.

“As you are aware, he wants our presence gone from the trade route of North Johrdan less we pay a significant tariff. Something we lack the means for and something to which he is not entitled to begin with.”

“Should we not stop and evaluate that statement Minister?” Elyra continued. “Is Suell not entitled to protect their own borders and ensure we pay for the use of their territory?”

Pantone pursed his lips and forced a sickly smile.

“Certainly the Emperor has every right to protect his borders. But we are not infringing on his borders, are we? We have utilized that shipping route for the last two centuries and it is critical for our petrol import. We cannot access it otherwise. Suddenly this new young leader thinks it falls into Suell boundaries? We have never paid his father for its usage and we are not going to start. End of story.” His voice began to rise to Elyra’s satisfaction. He wasn’t as cool and collected as usual, which she found promising.

“Now,” Pantone continued. “The issue we face at this time is a serious lack of military personnel in the field. As you are all aware, the San Mal Fortress is currently under siege by a pack of rabid rebels and we lack the forces to take it back. Minister Brigg tells me that we in fact have the lowest numbers of men currently enlisted in recent history. It’s no wonder we cannot protect our borders. This is unacceptable.”

“It’s true,” the Defense Minister spoke up. “Our enlistment has declined steadily for the past decade. We are now dangerously low on strength.”

“Well what do you expect?” Brita chimed in. “Our soldiers are hardly paid a fair wage and when they return, they come home to a more destitute situation than ever. You cannot actually expect them to be lining up around the corner for a uniform.”

“We will all be destitute if this war doesn’t shift in our favor,” Pantone said firmly.

“What do you propose?” Markus asked.

“Interesting question,” Pantone replied. “I’ll tell you, if it were up to me, these peasants would be doing their duty whether they liked it or not. They owe us their service.”

“You cannot seriously be suggesting reinstating conscription?” Elyra said in disgust.

A murmur spread across the table. Pantone’s expression tightened.

“Of course not, Your Highness. Not yet anyway. I’m just suggesting that perhaps the people need a little motivation to realize their civic obligations.”

“Perhaps a campaign to encourage enlistment,” suggested Markus. “Tell the public how much we need them. How the economy needs them.”

“Campaign all you’d like, but it sounds like it will be nothing but loaded propaganda until our military sees some reform,” Elyra countered.

Markus gave her a frustrated frown. Pantone did not look amused either. Her growing boldness clearly infuriated him.

“Do you really think you are the best person to be offering strategic political advice my dear? Especially in matters of military?” Pantone asked.

“It’s true I’m not as adept at fabrication as you are. But I may have just a little bit of a vested interest in this.
My Dear
.” She heard both a gasp and a snicker at her words, neither of which came from the scowling Hugh Pantone.

“There might be something to this thought,” interjected Robart Brigg, nervously fidgeting with his spectacles. “We will need a strong spokesperson to promote our campaign.”

“I’ll do no such thing,” Elyra snapped. “Not under these conditions.”

“Her Highness is right,” said Minister Sayer, much to Pantone’s surprise and dismay. “We cannot rightfully ask our people to give up their lives for nothing. Most don’t even support or even understand what we’re doing in Suell.”

Blood rushed into Pantone’s already ruddy face, pushing the capillaries out until they looked as if they might explode. Elyra smiled and captured the image to memory.

“Thank you Mr. Sayer,” Elyra said. “I propose that before we rush to recruit every boy in Arelanda old enough to lift an axe, we consider a sustainability plan. The way you told it to me privately, Pantone, is that we don’t even have the funds to support the soldiers we do have.”
Isn’t that why you’re trying to sell me off?

“You are entitled to an opinion, Your Highness. But let it be known that your expertise is limited in this matter and your opinions are outnumbered,” Pantone said.

“What is your point, Pantone?” Elyra snapped. He cocked his head and stared at her until she felt his gaze flicking her insides.

“Tread lightly. Tread very lightly.”

Once the Great Hall had emptied, Elyra lingered in her seat, staring blankly into the air.

“You’re playing with fire, El.”

She snapped into focus and saw Markus standing next to her.

“Are you trying to make things worse?” he said.

“And what should I do? Sit back and nod along with every idiotic thing that comes out of his fat mouth?” She shook her head.

“You’re making a very powerful enemy,” Markus sighed.

Elyra laughed.

“Please, Markus. Pantone and I are already at war. I won’t let him bully me.”

“Yes, I suppose you’ve made that pretty clear.”

She glared at him.

“Is there something you want? Or are you just here to scare me into keeping my mouth shut?”

Markus put a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened but didn’t pull away.

“If there is one thing I know about you, Elyra Ballantyne, is that you will never keep your mouth shut when you have something to say.” Markus smiled, sincerity dancing in his brown eyes. Unexpectedly, she felt his lips on her forehead. Before she could swat him away, he was already walking toward the door.

CHAPTER 35

Elyra stared out the oval-cut window from her bed chamber overlooking Arelanda City. The intricately etched rooftops poked out from crowded city streets—the monuments to their past glory days. A high steeple with an iron Great Star marked the city center of Plaza Hiro—a center where so much of their sordid, bloody history had told its story. How many spirits wandered those corridors? How many watched her as she slept soundly and safely locked behind unbreakable iron gates?

Thick gray storm clouds fanned across the sky, usurping the sun’s playground until it only shone through a slit in the clouds. Streaks of shimmering light beamed down over the city, darting through windows and bouncing off rooftops. It was a very grand city indeed, she thought. It was
her
city. She wasn’t sure she believed in the divine right of kings anymore, but she sure as hell believed in her divine right to defend her city against Hugh Pantone and all the evil that came with him. If he wanted a fight, she was willing and ready to give it to him.

There was a knock at her sitting room door.

“Ada?” She called out. No one answered at first but then a soft voice came through the door, barely audible.

“You’re Highness, it’s Minister Falcon. Brita.”

Elyra jerked herself from her somber state at once and raced to the door. Dressed in slim blue jeans and a black sweater, Brita stood in the doorway, looking uneasy and pale.

“Brita!” Elyra nearly squealed at the sight of her.

“May I—”

“Come in!” Elyra grabbed her by the arm and pulling her into the chambers. She peered out the door suspiciously then ducked back into the room, shutting the door and throwing down the heavy latch. Brita sighed audibly once they were securely fastened inside.

Without thinking, Elyra threw her arms abound Brita and fell into her bony clavicle. Brita stiffened, then returned the gesture.

“Are you all right?” Brita asked. “I’ve been so worried ever since I heard.”

“What…what did you hear?” Elyra pulled away.

“About your father. And this morning’s Council meeting was utterly nerve-wracking.”

Elyra pursed her lips doubtfully.

“Oh, yes, I’ve been so stressed since it happened,” she searched for answers in Brita’s eyes. “Why are you here?”

“I’ve come to offer my support in your sad time, of course.” Brita averted her eyes from Elyra’s. Elyra crossed her arms sternly.

“Brita, this isn’t a time for formalities or to tiptoe on eggshells. What do you need to tell me?”

Brita sighed and looked around the room, as if the answers were hiding behind a panting.

“Are you alone here?” Elyra nodded. “I must confess something to you. As a friend,” she found her way back to Elyra’s eyes. Elyra motioned for them to move to the plush red settee by the window.

“You can tell me anything,” she said as they sat.

“I’m not entirely confident of that, to be honest.”

Elyra had a flashback to Rogan’s confession.

“You don’t trust me? I thought we were beyond that now.”

“No, we are. I do trust you, truly. I know how deep your hatred of Pantone goes. And now with what’s happened, I know how tortuous it must be in your position. But the things I know go beyond sensitive. They’re downright dangerous. And the things I’ve done…” She paused and bit her lip. “Well there’s no way to say it other than I’ve betrayed some very serious trusts bestowed on me.”

Elyra smiled, amused at the irony.

“Haven’t we all? Bring me someone in this bloody palace who hasn’t betrayed someone’s trust and I’ll relinquish my crown.”

Her words coaxed a subtle grin from Brita. She fixed her icy eyes on Elyra in contemplation then finally nodded.

“I was hoping you would understand.”

“Then out with it.”

Brita took a breath.

“I know about Rogan.”

Elyra sucked in her breath and instinctively leaned back. The last time someone had revealed knowledge of her secret she’d been threatened with treason. Her heart froze for a moment and every nerve in her body suddenly burst into flame.
Calm down, calm down. It’s Brita.

“It’s all right,” Brita said immediately, placing a gentle hand on Elyra’s knee as if sensing her fear.

“Pantone?” Elyra’s voice was quivering. Brita shook her head.

“No, it wasn’t him. He’s kept your juicy secret for a rainy day.”

“How did you find out if not from Pantone? No one knows.” Elyra’s head was spinning.
How many spies were on her?

“I wouldn’t be so sure of that. Pantone isn’t the only one in the city with flies on the walls. But the truth is, I might be closer to the situation than you think. Actually, I know I am.”

“Just tell me what’s going on!” Her nerves were hanging on by frayed ends and her stomach was perfecting back flips. Brita nodded.

“About six months ago, I went to a rally. A rally for what they call the cause,” Brita paused and measured Elyra’s reaction. “I heard about it through one of the assistants that works in the ministry offices. She’s a little careless about with whom and where she discusses things, especially about something as damned dangerous as this. Anyway, she had gotten herself involved with some boy who’s tied up in the thing. You know I care about the state of this city, of this country. And I’ve heard the rumors of rebel clusters popping up all over the counties, ripe for revenge.”

“It’s not revenge, it’s justice,” Elyra interrupted without thinking. Brita’s smooth pink lips spread into a pleased grin.

“So I followed Marnie to this meeting of minds. I was…
intrigued.
It wasn’t a band of pitchfork-wielding farmers as Pantone would have you think. They were young, vibrant, ambitious and smart. This wasn’t a lynch-mob out for blood—well,” she laughed. “I suppose a few were. But mostly it was people who had been born on the wrong side of the street, who didn’t want to commit the future generations to the same fate of struggling to stay warm and clean and fed. They just wanted some dignity. They wanted a chance.

“So as I stood in the back shadows of this basement and took it all in, a devil of a man sauntered up to me—a boy really. He had these roguish chocolate eyes and sly smirk and bulging arms decorated in intricate art. It was so foolish and naïve of me—I’m a Royal Minister for God’s sake—but I let the way he prickled my skin take over my judgment.” Brita paused and closed her eyes, as if she were recalling the very moment she had let down her guard and given herself over to her passion.

“I wasn’t really sure what I was doing. Despite what he looked like, he was practically a kid. Instead of thinking rationally, I was easily distracted by…well you get the idea.” Brita blushed. “So, anyway long story short I got involved with this pup. And now…Look, I’m not some fool who thinks he’s going to be the love of my life or anything, but I do care about him and I care very much about what they’re trying to accomplish. But these past few months I couldn’t help but think I was digging myself into a hole I could never climb out of. What they’re doing… I don’t think one goes down this road with expectations of ever coming back.”

“You’re not the first woman to make a reckless decision over a guy,” Elyra laughed. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.  I’ve…
been there.
” She realized there was no more need to tip toe around the truth.

“So I hear,” Brita smiled.

“But why are you telling me this?”

Brita stared at her thoughtfully.

“Because,” Brita sighed. “A long idiotic story later, what I’m getting at is this rogue of mine practically breast fed alongside your Rogan.” 

Elyra narrowed her eyes, confused.

“You don’t mean…you’re not telling me you’ve been having some torrid affair with Benton Hollister are you?” 

Brita puckered her lips and nodded slowly.

“That I am.”

A wide grin crept across Elyra’s cheeks.

“Isn’t he a little young for you?”

“Would you be asking that if I were a man and him a woman?” Brita cocked an eyebrow. Elyra’s mouth gaped then she snapped it shut and grinned. “Regardless, I’m probably going to wind up against the firing squad for it, but Sants, some days it feels worth it.”

Elyra couldn’t contain herself and erupted into laughter laced with both irony and relief. Brita caught the contagion and followed her, letting months of nerves and fear tumble out.

“And to think, all these months, we’ve both been sitting on practically the same secret,” Elyra said. “It’s really quite ironic isn’t it?”

“Well, as relieved as I was to discover your judgment was nearly as poor as mine, no offence.”

“Of course not.”

“I know that this is much more serious than two girls chasing love dreams. We have put ourselves in extreme danger. When I found out you’d been discovered…I was stricken with fear.”

“I realize we’ve become closer, Brita, but aren’t you taking your loyalty to your princess to a bit of an extreme?”

“You are a humble girl, Elyra. And that is one thing everyone around you loves about you. Everyone but Pantone, of course. I’ve told you before; he fears what you might actually accomplish. He means to end this monarchy, step in under false democracy.”

“I don’t understand. The cause wishes to see us ousted and exiled, Pantone wants to usurp control and yet they are on opposites sides as well. How many sides can there be in this?”

“I know. It’s a mess. I’m sure Rogan has told you that ultimately, it’s not you or even the King that they’re targeting—it’s the way things are. It’s the policies making the rich richer and the poor poorer. When I joined the council, I was told they needed a way to reach the people. To stop the unrest. Revitalize the city. I don’t come from a long line of high ranks or hold noble titles and I thought I could find a solution to what we were facing. But it didn’t take long for me to realize that my role here was all a farce. I was a façade and my dreams were an illusion. Pantone never had any intention of real change. And your father; he’s a good man but he’s not a great king. I think you know that.”

Elyra nodded.

“Being born a king doesn’t make you one,” she muttered. Brita raised an eyebrow. “It’s something Rogan said. But I think he’s right.”

“That might be true. But the other truth is, he trusts Pantone, for whatever reason. And Pantone’s not going anywhere.”

“We have elections. The council could veto the next nomination.”

Brita shook her head.

“No one is going to challenge the King’s judgment. And even if there was another contender in the wings, who on the council is going to oppose Pantone and risk his retribution? Don’t for a moment underestimate his power. That man has a taste for blood as I have never seen in anyone. And the people he has on his payroll are the wraiths of nightmares.”

Elyra chewed on her lip and considered it.

“How do you know these things?”

Brita shrugged.

“I’m someone who just knows things I shouldn’t.” She grinned slyly.

“I don’t often admit such things, but I don’t know what to do Brita. Everything is in shambles and I’ve made a mess of my life. What Pantone knows could destroy me, could destroy my family. Had Rogan just been any common farmer—that would be one thing. It still would have been a horrid scandal and I’m sure I’d have needed a leave of absence from court, but it would have been forgivable. But that’s not who he is, is it? They could charge me with treason. And what my father would do to him…He will make sure Rogan pays for this. If he lives, that is.”

Elyra tried to fight the tears but hot drops still streaked her flushed cheeks. Brita squeezed her hand.

“I don’t know what you should do, either. But I know what you can’t do. You cannot sit by and let him do this. There is no gentle way to say this, but if your father…if he doesn’t make it, Pantone is going to use Rogan to challenge your claim. Not just in the interim, but forever.”

Elyra bit down on her lip until it hurt. She wasn’t naïve; she already knew this. But the thought still made her sick.

“What am I supposed to do?” Elyra’s trembling voice betrayed her strength.

“You need allies, El. I’m not talking friends, I mean allies. You need those who are going to fight for you.”

“Rogan will fight for me.”

Brita shook her head.

“Rogan will fight for the Cause. I know he loves you, but he knows you are both doomed if things don’t change.”

“Then who am I supposed to lean on? Markus?” She said mildly annoyed, making Brita smirk.

“Well, it’s no secret Markus would do just about anything for you. If it comes to it, yes. Let Markus help you. And you have me. I’m not much, but I’m someone. And believe it or not, not everyone in the government is jumping for joy over another term of Hugh Pantone at the head.”

Elyra raised an eyebrow.

“Like who?”

“Don’t worry about that now. I’ve made the decision that I’m going to help you win this. You said yourself that I don’t know the word ‘defeat’, right? What Rogan can do for you is make sure they know you’re on their side.”