Sheala (33 page)

“For now, but we need to get those archers off the balcony,” he snarled. “And how did they get into the palace in the first place?”

The queen’s muffled voice drifted from beneath her husband. “The children. Did the guards make it out?”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about them,” Marljas muttered. “Brianna’s son is with them. That means Feni is there. She will die before anyone gets past her, as will your
Snopard
guards.”

“Where is Radris!” Krondal snarled.

“It’s a six-day ride by horseback from my father’s hold. He didn’t fly in with us because he didn’t think he had to hurry,” Marljas answered. Rising to his knees, he looked over the top of the table in time to see Kahn and Beti reach into the wide belts they wore around their waists. Almost immediately, the four-pronged silver stars that were the favored weapons of Medirian assassins flew into the balcony.

Few missed their targets. Archers started to fall, a few over the balcony railing.

Then, with a boom like thunder, the huge double doors at the opposite end of the room crashed open, and a magnificent white stallion thundered into the hall, his trumpeting neigh both demanding and challenging as he galloped towards the king and queen. Leaping onto the dais, he spun around and reared up onto his hind legs.

Surprise flooded Marljas
.
“A
pholola
stallion!”

“There are no
pholola
stallions on Gattan right now!” the queen snapped.

Arrows flew into the ceiling as archers jerked their aims away from the stallion.

One skidded across his withers.

Red blood rolled down his white shoulders as the stallion trumpeted and reared again.

Up on the balcony, an archer cried with fear and misery as he gaped at the wound he’d caused.

A star thudded into his chest and he fell over the railing.

Another neigh reverberated around the hall.

Sheala jerked her attention back to the other end of the room. On the back of his
pholola
mare, Radris galloped into the hall, lasers drawn. Anyone who stepped into their path was trampled by the mare. Few challenged them, and he concentrated his fire on the remaining archers in the balcony.

One, dressed and masked completely in black, stopped firing and looked around. Most of the other archers were down. He called something to the archer on his right. A shrill whistle pierced the din, and those that were left slipped back through open doors.

He remained, drawing back his bow, aiming directly for Sheala where she crouched next a table.

“No!” Vaulting past the still-rearing stallion, Marljas leaped from the dais and tackled Sheala to the floor, covering her body with his. He looked up.

Instantly, the archer changed his aim and released his arrow. A female scream behind him told everyone he’d found his mark.

“Not the queen, please don’t let it be the queen,” he prayed as he rolled over, his wife in his arms.

On the other side of the room, Kadis slumped over a table as she clenched the arrow protruding from her breast.

“Bastard,” Marljas hissed. He didn’t like Kadis, but she didn’t deserve to be murdered.

He rolled back over in time to see the archer topple over the balcony’s railing as a silver star implanted in his chest. He landed on the floor with a thud.

Troops began to pour into the hall, weapons drawn.

“The balcony. After them!” Radris shouted as he slid off his mare and leaped onto the dais. “Your Majesties! Are you hurt?”

Some of the troops left. Others stayed, rounding up everyone in the room and herding them together.

On the dais, the
pholola
stallion stepped aside, the guards moved back and Krondal rose to his feet and wiped blood from a small gash on his forehead. Reaching down, he helped his wife rise.

“We’re fine, Colonel,” she answered as she looked around. Her gaze fell on the stallion and her eyes widened. Nickering, he bowed his head, leaped from the dais and galloped from the hall.

“How many wounded and dead?” she demanded.

“Five wounded here, Your Majesty,” the same guard answered. “None of the wounds are life-threatening. But—your
Snopard
guard, Eliha, is dead.”

Mattis’ snarl reached Sheala where she now stood in Marljas’ arms. “I will personally gut the man responsible for this.”

“Noooooooooo!”

Everyone whirled.

Jadis was on her knees next to her daughter’s body.

“No! No! No!” With each denial, she cut a bloody line across her right arm.

Marljas stepped forward, drawing Sheala with him. “One of the assassins purposely shot her. I witnessed it.”

“Which one?” the queen snapped.

Marljas pointed. “Him.”

“Get him,” she commanded.

Two of the guards leaped from the dais. “He’s still alive,” one of them shouted when they reached his side.

Mattis’ claws slid from their sheaths. “Bring him to me.”

Each guard hooked a hand in one of his armpits and dragged him to her. His groan of pain was audible as they dropped him. Blood seeped around the silver star protruding from his chest.

The queen stood at the edge of the dais and looked down. “Get that hood off him.”

Blood dripping from her arms, Jadis pushed the guards out of her way. “His blood is mine!” she snarled.

Reaching down, she ripped the hood from his head.

Deathly pale, Cadan smiled up at her. “Hello, Mother.”

Gasping, Jadis stared at her son. “You!”

Stunned, everyone else remained quiet.

Cadan coughed and blood trickled from his lips. He tried to suck in a breath, coughed and swallowed.

His labored breathing was deafening in the now silent hall.

The queen stepped down off the dais and knelt next to him. “Cadan…”

His smile remained on his face. His voice was faint. “It…was…nothing personal…Aunt, but Mother wanted…to be queen.” He shifted and gritted his teeth.

“Shut up, you worthless male!” Jadis spat. Claws extended, she bent towards her son.

“Hold her!” Krondal ordered.

Two guards grabbed her arms.

The queen kept her attention on Cadan. “Why Kadis?”

He coughed again. “Mother…only…tolerates me. She always…regretted…I wasn’t female.

I…couldn’t please…her.” His voice was weaker. “Kadis was…her angel. I…was tired of…being compared to her. Now, Mother…will suffer.”

He closed his eyes.

“Cadan!” Radris snapped in a sharp voice. “Who else was involved in this plot?”

His eyes fluttered open. “Mother, of course… Who else?”

“You lie!” Jadis shrieked as she struggled in the guards’ grasps.

“Do I?” His chest fell one last time as his head slid to the side and he stared unseeing at his kneeling queen.

Jadis screamed. Then suddenly, she stopped struggling. “Kadis, my daughter…gone.” Moaning, she collapsed in the guards’ iron grips. Only they kept her upright.

“Take her to her rooms and lock her in. I want two guards at the door of her apartments and two more at the bedchamber door,” the queen ordered. “Are any of the other assassins alive?”

Kahn’s voice was flat. “No.”

“They’re all dead,” confirmed Radris as he pulled the hood off the last assassin his men had dragged to the center of the floor. “And they are all Gattan, sons of
Tigre
families.”

“
Tigre
!” she spat. “My tribe.” Face stern she motioned to Radris. “I want their families brought to the palace, if they aren’t already here, and kept under heavy guard. Have the bodies of their sons tossed into the rooms with them and make sure they all know what happened to them. And use
Leonine
and
Pantra
troops—those you know you can trust.”

Radris bowed. “It will be done.”

Then she drew herself up to her full height and turned to Kahn. “Without you, many more, including my husband and myself, could have died. We owe you blooddebt.”

Crossing his arms over his chest, Kahn grunted and looked around the room. His gaze settled on the
Snopard
warrior-priestesses who guarded the queen. “When they learned I would be journeying to Gattan, both the Patriarch of the Nissians and Matriarch of the Aradabs commanded that I ask for a boon of you. This boon would settle all blooddebt between us, Queen of the Gattan.”

She didn’t hesitate. “What do you ask?”

“That you grant permission for
Snopard
elders to travel to Mediria to meet with the Patriarch and Matriarch.”

Mattis blinked. “I cannot command them,” she admitted.

Kahn nodded. “The Patriarch and Matriarch assured me they would come.”

“How can you be so sure?”

Kahn bowed again. “It is not for one such as I to question the commands of the Patriarch and Matriarch.”

Still a bit nonplused, the queen nodded. “Very well, if they wish to go to Mediria, I’ll have one of my fastest ships take them. Blooddebt will be satisfied.”

Kahn and Beti bowed.

The queen shook her head then gazed around the shambles that had once been her reception hall.

Medics were caring for wounded Gattan. A small group of
Tigre
was still guarded.

“Would you like me to question them, my love?” Krondal asked with a gleam in his eye.

A slow smile meandered across her lips. “I would like that very much.” She motioned to the guards.

“Take them away.”

Amid a chorus of protests, the guards herded everyone but those who were wounded and Teena’s family from the room.

As soon as arrows started flying, the guards of both the Drakian and Varcian ambassadors had hustled them from the hall.

The Medirian ambassador, however, had remained. Smiling, Jessilindra nodded her head to the queen.

“I’ve said all along you know how to throw a party, Your Majesty. With your permission, my people and I shall retire.”

“Of course, Jessilindra. Please, inform me of anything you need.” When the Medirians were halfway across the room, she muttered to those around her, “Not a hair out of place. Not a wrinkle in any of their clothing. Not a drop of blood.” She looked at one of her guards. “How many dead attackers lay where they were standing?”

“Five,” he answered.

“Only Medirian assassins can kill with so little effort,” she hissed.

“You don’t expect Uncle Findal to send his youngest sister to Gattan without protection, do you?” Ban asked dryly.

An eyebrow cocked, the queen turned to face him. “Not a scratch on you, either.”

Shrugging, he grinned. “I had two Aradabs guarding me.”

A guard hurried across the room and bowed. “The children are safe. From what we can determine, this was the only attack.”

“Kill us first, then the children,” the queen muttered. She nodded towards Cadan’s body. “Get this carrion out of here.” She looked over at her niece and sighed. “Have Kadis’ body carried to her rooms and prepared for burial. She’ll be interred in the family vault. Allow Jadis to see her, but don’t let her interfere with funeral preparations.” She looked once more at her nephew’s body. “Put him in an unmarked grave as he is.”

Radris’ mare whinnied. Nostrils flaring, she gazed at the open doors.

More whinnies answered hers.

Still in Marljas’ arms, Sheala followed the mare’s gaze.

Pacing sedately through the huge door were nine more white mares. Each carried a white-haired
Snopard
on her back.

Marljas’ arms tightened around Sheala. “All
nine
elders!”

Sheala glanced at the queen. She’d drawn herself up to her full height. Consternation was evident on her brow.

When the mares halted before her in a loose semicircle, the queen bowed to the elderly man who sat on the back of the mare directly in front of her. “Elders. Be welcome.”

“He’s male!” Sheala gasped. “The queen of Gattan is bowing to a man?”

Marljas clapped his hand over her mouth.

Shifting his gaze, the old man smiled at Sheala, then winked.

The queen couldn’t keep the confusion from her voice. “Elders, as always, you are most welcome, but why have you come?”

The leader of the group looked around the shambles that was the reception hall. Broken dishes and bent cutlery littered the floor. Here and there, a wounded Gattan was still being tended.

The body of the dead warrior-priestess lay off to the side.

“Our seers told us you would have need of us.” He looked directly at her. “We are the keeper of the law. It is for us to judge guilt and innocence. We shall question the families of the dead in three days’

time. Keep them guarded until then. Bury their sons with your nephew, in one grave. The
Snopards
will mark it.”

Behind her, Sheala heard Krondal mutter a curse.

The elder glanced over the queen’s shoulder at him. “Unrest and dissatisfaction would come from your questioning, Krondal of the
Leonine
. And,” he added with a twinkle in his eye, “they fear us far more than they fear you.” He nodded to the queen. “We will camp outside the city. Send word if you have need of us before we come for your prisoners.”

All nine mares wheeled smoothly and loped from the room.

No sooner had they disappeared out the door, than a rumpled
Tigre
woman stepped before the queen.

Mattis sighed. “What is it, Aunt?”

The older woman crossed her arms over her chest and turned to Sheala. “I owe blooddebt to the wife of Marljas Drefeson. Without thought for her own safety, she aided me as I bound my husband’s wound.

I wish to settle the amount.”

The queen shook her head. “It can wait.”

The woman frowned. “Settling a blooddebt is serious business, Niece.”

The queen’s temper flared. “My own nephew just tried to murder me, Aunt. Settling your blooddebt can wait a few days. Now, go care for your husband.”

Stiffly, the woman curtsied, spun about, and stomped from the room.

Mattis sagged against her husband. “Krondal, get me out of here before some other poor fool comes to me with something stupid. I’m likely to declare bloodfeud myself.”

Chuckling, he swept her up into his arms. Followed by their guards, he carried his wife from the room.