Shards of Time (4 page)

Alec grinned. “Baron Alec í Amasa of Kouros. I like the sound of that. What do you say, Baron Seregil?”

“I don’t care for it,” Seregil grumbled, annoyed at the prospect of having the title thrust upon him.

Thero let out an impatient sigh.

“Thero, tell me more about the situation on the island,” said Alec. “You mentioned Plenimaran loyalists leaving, but are there others who stayed? Is that where the unrest is coming from?”

“In part, but since Plenimar has held the island for several generations, there is a sizable population who were born there and consider it their home and birthright. And of course some married into the families of the Kouros islanders, so their status is even hazier. As I said, those who remained swore fealty to Elani.”

“People will swear to anything to keep what they consider theirs,” Seregil remarked.

“And one among these new ‘citizens’ may have taken it upon themselves to kill the symbol of what they would consider occupation: the governor,” said Alec.

Thero nodded. “That’s certainly one possibility.”

“What do you know about the secretary who sent the report?” asked Seregil.

“I don’t know Lady Zella personally, but I understand from Korathan that she was the governor’s right hand.”

Seregil drummed his fingers on the edge of the table, then nodded. “I must admit, it sounds like an interesting problem.”

“So you’ll come?” asked Thero.

Seregil gave Alec a crooked grin. “What do you say? Shall we brave the spirit world for queen and country?”

Alec grinned back. “Of course.”

Seregil raised his mug. “To ghosts and traitors!”

The rest of the day was spent on preparations for the voyage, and the court visit looming over them.

As Thero had predicted, a royal writ was delivered by a herald that afternoon, summoning them to the Palace in two days’ time to receive their new rank and lands.

Micum arrived the evening before, in time to go with them.

“So, Elani finally got her way, did she?” said Micum, grinning at them as they sat by the fire in the library upstairs. His thick, silver-streaked red hair and drooping moustache were neatly trimmed, his clothing that of a country lord come to town. He’d brought his bow and long sword, but the old battered scabbard had been replaced with a very fine one of Aurënfaie workmanship.

Alec chuckled. “You look every inch the gentleman come to court.”

“Bit of a change from the usual, isn’t it?” said Micum, taking out his pipe and tobacco pouch. “Nyal made this scabbard for me for my name day, last time he and Beka were home.” He touched the leather fondly; he was well pleased with his eldest daughter’s choice of husband. “I’m glad to finally have cause to wear it. Kari and Illia had every clothes chest we own turned out to properly outfit me, and fretted considerably that I’m not up to the latest fashion, whatever that is these days.”

“You know Elani won’t care,” said Seregil. “How much do you know about this commission of ours?”

Micum used the tongs from the mantelpiece to light his pipe with an ember from the fire. “Only that the governor of Kouros was murdered and Klia’s been made acting governor and sent to investigate the deaths. I assume that’s why she’s taking us along.”

“There may be ghosts,” Alec told him.

Micum raised a shaggy eyebrow at that. “That’s a detail Thero’s message left out.”

“He probably thought Kari would make a fuss if she knew,” said Seregil.

“She might have, at that.” The love between Micum and his wife ran deep—deep enough for her to accept his wandering ways all these years—but as they grew older, Kari worried more than she used to. “If it is a ghost, is there anything we can do about it?”

“Just offer proof, I suppose, and perhaps warn other people off,” said Alec. “Seregil’s already decided there isn’t one, though.”

“I have not! I’m just keeping an open mind.”

“I
hope
there isn’t one,” Alec admitted. “Give me a nice, live enemy any day.”

“But if there is?” Micum puffed thoughtfully at his pipe. “Does Thero have any magic of that sort?”

“He claims to,” Seregil said with a shrug. “Are you coming to our investiture tomorrow?”

Micum grinned around his pipe stem. “I wouldn’t miss it.”

T
HE
following morning they dressed with care. Alec stood in front of the long glass as he tied up the front of his embroidered linen shirt and slipped into his new coat. The rich wool fabric was nearly the same dark blue as his eyes, and the buttons, which Seregil had insisted on at the tailor’s, were stylized golden flowers set with polished sapphires. The bands at the collar, cuffs, and down the front edges of the coat were stiff with gold embroidery in an elaborate pattern of leaves.

“If I fall into water, this will drag me to the bottom,” Alec muttered.

Sitting on the edge of their silk-hung bed, Seregil grinned as he pulled on his best boots. “I don’t think we’ll have to worry too much about that at the Palace.”

“So Elani finally has her way.”

Elani had come to regard them as friends during their investigations of the plots that had threatened not only her life, but those of the queen and Princess Klia. She’d wanted to make them courtiers then, by way of reward, but her uncle, Prince Korathan, had talked her out of it on Seregil and Alec’s behalf. After consulting with Thero, Seregil, and Alec, Korathan had gone to his niece and explained something of their work for Skala as Watchers—the network of spies overseen by Thero. Elani had been thrilled to learn their secret and had at once renewed the royal approval of the Watchers, which her aunt, Queen Phoria, had rescinded before she died.

Seregil stood and Alec held out the dark red coat. Seregil slipped his arms into the sleeves and shifted his shoulders to settle it. The garment was as elaborately styled as Alec’s, with golden buttons shaped like crescent moons cradling round disks of jet. Going to the dressing table, he opened a small casket, took his ancestor Corruth í Glamien’s ruby ring from its velvet bed, and slid it on his right forefinger. He already wore a small diamond ring on his left little finger—a reward from Elani. Alec wore a similar ring set with an emerald, also from her own hand. The young queen was generous with her gifts—a charming trait that had nearly gotten her killed during the previous year’s reign of terror.

Brushing back his long dark hair, Seregil hung a dangling ruby earring from his right earlobe. With a bit of sleight of hand, he produced a matching one set with a sapphire for Alec.

“It’s not my name day.” Alec laughed as he put the bauble on.

Seregil gently touched Alec’s ear, admiring the way the jewel matched his lover’s eyes. “We have to put on a proper show. We are about to be barons, after all.”

Downstairs they found Micum dressed for court as well, though not so resplendently as they were. He had little patience with fripperies, as he called any sort of unnecessary ornamentation. His fine green coat was well cut, though, with silver buttons, and his belt was beautifully worked Aurënfaie leather, like his scabbard.

He grinned at them as they came down the sweeping staircase to join him in the salon. “You two look like a couple of soft-handed court lapdogs.”

Seregil made him a mocking bow. “Just what we were aiming for.”

At the Palace a page accompanied them to the huge, vaulted audience chamber. The assistant chamberlain took their names and business, and they went to join the crowd of petitioners gathered in front of the royal dais.

“Ah, here you are, Micum,” said Thero, emerging from the
crowd with Mika close by his side. “Thank you for getting here so quickly.”

Thero was dressed for court in a fine blue robe, and Mika wore a short white robe banded in his master’s colors.

“Well, hello there!” Micum ruffled the boy’s hair. “I suppose Master Thero is making a lesson of this?”

Mika grinned. “I’ve been learning all the ranks and titles. I can still call Seregil and Alec ‘my lord,’ so that will be easy.”

“Are you excited about our journey?” asked Micum.

Mika’s grey eyes widened, and so did his smile. “Oh, yes! Though Master Thero says I have to keep away from dangerous places. He promised Mama.”

Just then the elderly lord chamberlain, Duke Waris, tapped his carved staff on the marble floor and announced, “Attend Her Majesty, Queen Elani.”

At seventeen, flaxen-haired Elani was still slim as a boy, and deceptively delicate looking as she took her place on the carved stone throne. Even so, she looked every inch a queen. She wore the ruby-studded diadem, and a golden breastplate over her gown of royal red silk chased with the royal emblem of flame and crescent. The great Sword of Gherilain, the ultimate symbol of her power, hung at her side, and a golden war helm rested on a cushion at her feet, constant reminder that the queens of Skala were first and foremost warriors and protectors of the land.

Her uncle, Prince Korathan, stood at her right hand in his capacity as vicegerent, wearing the robes, heavy chain, and flat black velvet hat of his office.

The chamberlain summoned each petitioner in turn. As he waited for their names to be called, Alec watched Elani carefully. Favors were asked, pleas made, and grievances presented. The girl listened intently to each one, occasionally consulting Korathan before she made her pronouncements. Alec admired her impassive demeanor. Only once did her expression threaten to give way to emotion; a dyer’s wife fell on her knees, wringing her stained hands as she begged for her husband’s life. Apparently the man had killed an apprentice in a fit of anger. For an instant Alec was certain he saw
pity in Elani’s eyes, but she shook her head and the woman was led away by relatives, sobbing into a handkerchief.

The queen was the supreme justice in the land and Alec suspected that it weighed heavily on the shoulders of a girl five years his junior, despite her training.

At last the chamberlain called out, “Lord Seregil of Rhíminee and Lord Alec of Ivywell. Present yourselves.”

He and Seregil stepped forward and knelt before the dais. Elani came down to stand before them, left hand resting on the pommel of her sword.

“Be it known throughout the land,” Korathan announced, “that these two men, though foreigners, stand in the queen’s favor.”

Elani drew the sword and held it up before her in both hands.

“Do you swear fealty to the Throne and Skala?” she asked.

“By the Four, I so swear,” answered Alec, who’d been coached on the ritual responses by Seregil.

Seregil solemnly repeated the oath.

“Do you swear to come to the queen’s aid in times of war?”

They both swore to do so, and Alec wondered if that meant serving as officers. He’d always envied his friend Beka Cavish, now a commander in the Queen’s Horse Guard, a little.

“Demonstrate your devotion to Skala and the Queen,” Korathan intoned.

They prostrated themselves at Elani’s feet and kissed the hem of her gown.

“Kneel,” Korathan ordered.

With the hint of a smile tilting the corners of her pale green eyes, Elani touched them each on either shoulder with the tip of the sword. “As you have both sworn your loyalty before these witnesses, so I invest you with the title of Barons of Mirror Moon, with all lands, waters, and chattel that belong to it.”

“We will be faithful stewards, Your Majesty, and serve at your pleasure,” Seregil replied.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Alec.

Elani sheathed her sword and offered her hand for the kiss
of fealty. Her fingertips were cool against Alec’s hand, and callused from the bowstring. When he straightened up again, he caught her smile and the faint flush infusing her fair cheeks.

Elani ascended the dais and took her seat. At her nod, Korathan proclaimed, “To all here before gathered, at the queen’s pleasure, I present to you Baron Seregil of Mirror Moon and Baron Alec of Mirror Moon. Accord them all respect due their rank.”

The crowd of commoners bowed to them, along with the lesser nobles among the courtiers. Those who held rank higher than baron merely nodded. Micum grinned, making them an exaggerated bow.

And with that Alec found himself, for the first time in his life, a landowner with a legitimate title, his previous one having been fabricated by Seregil when he first brought Alec to Rhíminee.

“The queen wishes to speak with the three of you when the audience time is over,” the under chamberlain informed them when it was over and Elani had turned to the next duty.

Several hours later they were led to a private drawing room, where Elani and Prince Korathan joined them.

“Thank you for accepting my commission,” Elani said as they all bowed and kissed her hand.

“It would be unthinkable not to, Majesty,” said Alec.

“I have the utmost faith in all of you,” Elani replied with a smile. “And I hope you’ll forgive me, Baron Seregil, for elevating you against your wishes. Uncle Korathan said you wouldn’t like it, but it is more than deserved.”

Seregil gave her a gracious nod. “I am honored, Majesty, and will do my best to uphold the honor of Mirror Moon.”

“I’m told it’s a very pleasant place, with considerable lands.”