The Apprentice (47 page)

Epilogue

Byron stood outside the throne
room. Inside, Gannon was speaking with men he deemed important or influential
enough to deserve his attention. Byron was waiting for him to finish. He had
somehow fallen into the role of Gannon’s attendant, a useful position, but one
that did not often earn praise.

As he
stood in waiting, Byron tried to distract himself and keep his mind busy. He
was bored and he suspected that he would be standing in the same spot for some
time. He could sit or move around or doze, but Gannon would know if he did so.
Gannon always knew, and he never failed to punish such things.

Even
worse than the boredom, however, was Byron’s distaste for the castle. Even
where he was, outside of the throne room, Byron still thought that he could
faintly smell the blood that had been spilled. Looking around, he could see a
dark spot just down the hall. It may have been just a shadow, but he knew
better. Gannon was working the servants hard, but there were only so many of
them and they could not clean everything. Every inch of the castle was being
scrubbed and scrubbed again, yet there was still a lingering darkness. There
were stains that proved difficult to remove entirely. Smells lingered. And an
absence of people to occupy the large castle left it largely empty and quiet.
The bodies had been taken away, but the eerie silence that their absence left
behind was disconcerting. The servants whispered of ghosts, the spirits of the
dead.

Byron
shivered from the cold and tried to think different thoughts. Gannon did not
believe in spirits or such superstitions, and therefore neither did those who
served him. Gannon was a strict man, and his rise to power meant that things
would change. Byron didn’t mind, though. The king had been a man above him, a
symbol or a figure that was seen from afar rather than a person. His death did
not affect Byron. And the young princess, Eliza, she had been a brat. Her death
did not bother him, nor did the fact that Gannon had ascended to power through
betrayal.

So long
as Byron did well and did not screw up, he would be fine. Gannon punished
disobedience and incompetence, but he had rewarded Byron for his loyalty. For
betraying Rowan, Gannon had promoted Byron. For helping in the betrayal that
brought Gannon into power, Gannon considered him worthy of his trust. But for
allowing Rowan to escape—though it had not directly been Byron’s fault—Gannon
had given Byron a scar.

Byron
wrinkled his nose again at the smell. He would need to have words with the
master servants later. If they could not make the maids clean the hallways and
leave them smelling unspoiled, then they were not doing their jobs well enough
and would need to be reprimanded. Perhaps he would have words with a maid or
two as well. He pressed the cloth of his cloak over his nose.

“You are
not the king! By what right do you have the authority to act in his stead?”

The
voices from the room behind him had grown in intensity. They were muffled
through the thick doors, but Byron could hear some of what was being said.

“You are
correct. I am not King Alden, nor am I of the royal family. But in this
dangerous time, a strong leader is required to fill the void that was left by
our king.”

“And you
aim to do so! You wish to take power!”

“Someone
must rise and lead this country, be it temporarily or permanently, and I am in
a position to do so. I did not bring you before me to argue about my right to
authority. I brought you here to take action. Our great king has been murdered
and this betrayal must not go unpunished.”

Byron
smiled as he heard sounds of assent at Gannon’s words. The lord commander was
indeed a treacherous and sly man, and his plans were ambitious. He had a silver
tongue and a way with words, a way of making others see his point of view and
think it was their own.

Byron
tried to continue listening, but the voices had quieted and he could no longer
hear them clearly from the hallway. He wondered absently at what the Gannon was
aiming to achieve. He all but controlled the country. With the death of the
king, the he held stewardship over the lands and he controlled the armies. But
he did not seem satisfied, nor did he act as though he was completely secure in
his power.

Byron
knew that Gannon must have plans which he did not speak of. However, while
Byron could wonder at such things as he pleased, he knew better than to pry.

The
muffled sounds of argument in the room behind him faded. He wondered what was
being said. He knew that one of the men inside the room was Darius, one of his
former trainers. Byron had never cared much for Darius, but his feelings were
not overly strong. Gannon, however, found the head trainer to be irritating and
unresponsive to persuasion. The only reason Gannon tolerated Darius was because
of the man’s influence and his status. If the head trainer became problematic,
Gannon would find a way to dispose of him.

The door
behind Byron opened, slamming against the wall with a crack. The meeting was
over and the audience was filing out. Darius strode past him, looking none too
happy as he walked away on his own. Byron did not acknowledge his former
trainer and Darius did not notice him.

When the
hall had cleared, Byron stepped into the throne room. He could tell immediately
that Gannon was in an unpleasant mood, which meant that he would have to act
cautiously. When Gannon was dark, he was swift to punish those who displeased
him. Byron had to act as Gannon wished him to act, without order or direction.
Sometimes that meant addressing Gannon directly and foregoing formalities so as
not to waste time. Other times Gannon would erupt if he was addressed without his
leave. Byron chose to stay silent until he was spoken to as that seemed the
safer choice.

Gannon
did not acknowledge him immediately. He took a seat on the throne, something
that he would not do in the company of the men who had just gone. Gannon had ascended
to power, but the country had not realized it yet. There were certain protocols
that still had to be observed, and taking the throne was one of them. It was
not a seat for the lord commander, even if the king was dead and he ruled in
all but title.

When
Gannon did acknowledge Byron, it was to call him to his side.

“What
news have you?”

Gannon
had sent men out into the city. Officially, their orders were to keep the peace
and secure the city so that the people would sleep soundly. But they were actually
a means for Gannon to secure the capitol city as his own. He had created a city
watch and placed guards throughout Estoria to control the people and prevent
trouble.

The
watch also had orders to search for any sign of Rowan, who had not been found
among the dead. Word had been sent to other cities and to the garrisons along
the borders to keep watch for Baird’s apprentice. Rowan was not overly
powerful, but Gannon feared the possibility that he could hold enough sway over
the people to cause trouble. Byron knew Rowan, though, so he did not share
Gannon’s fear. If Rowan was found, he would be killed. He was nothing special.

“There
is nothing of interest—”

“I will
decide what is and is not important!” Gannon snapped. “You are to report any
news to me.”

Byron
apologized, bowing his head so as not to meet Gannon’s eyes. He knew that the
statement was not true. If Byron were to bother Gannon with every report he
received with no regards to its significance, it would not end well. But with
each failure, he was learning what Gannon expected of him.

“Continue.”

“There
have been several minor incidents with some of the smallfolk. All have been
dealt with without trouble. The city remains under watch and the people seem to
like the protection.” Gannon smiled as Byron spoke, seemingly satisfied with
the course of events and the lack of trouble.

“Estoria
is yours, and soon the people will recognize that truth,” Byron continued. “You
face no opposition and there is no one who could make a stronger claim.”

Gannon’s
expression soured and his eyes went dark.

“What of
the boy, Baird’s apprentice?”

“There
has been no word of Rowan. He is not in the city, of that we are sure. Your
guards searched every house and every passageway or hiding place that they
could find, all under the pretext of weeding out conspirators. He is not in
Estoria, and if he ever returns, he will be killed.”

“You are
a fool if you think that,” Gannon spat. “The boy is useless and weak, but he is
Baird’s apprentice. People may find in him something that they would stand
behind and support. One cannot rule a country if its people will not subject
themselves.”

“But you
are respected. You hold a high office, the highest there is. There are none
stronger or greater than yourself.”

“My
greatness allowed me to come this far. But it will be fear and power that bring
me obedience. There is more to be done if I wish to truly control this
country—this land—without opposition.”

Byron
was somewhat confused. Gannon was largely overestimating Rowan. Even if he was
Baird’s apprentice, he was no great leader of the people and he was gone
besides.

“Perhaps
I shall have an additional use for you, Byron. You have proven yourself
capable, and I have need of someone who can be trusted to do things that are
less than honorable.”

“As you
wish.” Byron would be more than happy to be given a task that was important.
The honor would be great, as would the reward. He just had to avoid failure.
“What would you have me do?”

“There
is much that I would have you do. And there is much that you will do for me.
There are people who must be shadowed, problems that need to be taken care of,
and things that must be watched. One thing in particular—a person—who needs to
be kept guarded and watched, hidden until the time is right.”

Byron
was filled with questions, curious about this prisoner to be guarded. But his
answers would have to wait. Gannon led him from the throne room and through the
castle. The entire place was empty and the silence was unsettling.

Byron
wondered at who he would find. Perhaps it would be Darius. But no, the head
trainer had just met with Gannon. Byron had seen him leave. It would be odd for
Darius to have been imprisoned so quickly. His sudden disappearance would look
suspicious.

Byron
did not have long to wonder, however, as Gannon stopped outside of a closed
room. They were not in the dungeons, which Byron found odd. But even though
they were not in the dungeons, they had walked past a pair of guards, and down
the hall, Byron could see another pair standing watch. One of the men turned to
see who was in the hallway. He saw Gannon and turned his attention back to his
duty.

“They
are some of my most trusted guards,” Gannon stated, his voice quiet as though
he did not want to be overheard. Byron had to step closer to hear him speak.
“They will let no one past save for myself and those with me.”

“If you
have guards, then what am I to do?” Byron asked. He did not wish to be banished
to the dead part of the castle to watch over some prisoner already under guard.
He disliked being in the castle, and he could feel the dark wrongness of this
place.

“Guards
do as they are told, they guard. I need something more. You will oversee our
guest
and make sure that she is treated well enough and that she is watched.”

She?
Byron was surprised that the prisoner
was a female. He would not have thought that Gannon would need to imprison a
woman.

“She
will be your responsibility,” Gannon continued, placing his hand on the door to
open it, “and you will help me make use of her, or dispose of her, as necessary.”

Byron’s
curiosity was beginning to get the best of him. He leaned forward to peer
inside the room as Gannon pushed the door open a mere crack.

The room
was well furnished and looked quite comfortable. There were plush cushions
strewn about the floor and a large bed dominated the space. Byron scanned the
room, looking for a person, but saw no one. He scanned the room again, thinking
that there must be some mistake.

A
movement caught his eye. Someone was lying in the bed, asleep or feigning
sleep, but he could make out little more than a lumpy form covered by sheets
and blocked by pillows and a wisp of curly blonde hair.

“Who is
it?” Byron whispered, the stillness and the silence of the moment quieting his
voice. A look from Gannon told him to remain quiet.

The
sleeping form began to stir. Byron glanced back into the room to watch but
Gannon was closing the door. The sleeping woman turned and Byron was just able
to make out the face of his new prisoner before the door swung closed and
locked with a click. Byron glanced up at Gannon, suddenly afraid of the task
being given to him.

Gannon
looked down at Byron with an amused grin. He knew that Byron had seen the
captive and he was enjoying his discomfort.

“I trust
that you will be able to handle this task.”

Byron
nodded, though inside he was still afraid. Afraid of the responsibility that
had suddenly been forced upon him.