The High King's Tomb (67 page)

“You do understand,” Laren told Zachary, “the courage Lady Estora is showing by coming to you with this. She did not wish for you to find out on your wedding night.”

“I do,” he replied, his voice toneless.

“Do you? Lord Coutre—”

“Lord Coutre,” Zachary snapped, “loves his daughter. I know how much, for I saw the effect the abduction had on him.”

Lady Estora dropped her gaze to the floor, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly.

“But—” Laren began.

He cut her off with a curt gesture. “I know he is strict. I know how conservative Coutre Province is compared to other regions of Sacoridia.
I know.
And I know also there was a time before the abduction that Lord Coutre would have disowned his daughter had he heard of her relationship with F’ryan Coblebay.”

“But if you decide—”

Zachary turned full on to Laren. “I am not Lord Coutre, and this is not his province. I know what would happen if I considered the marriage contract breached. And for what? Because of love? For love of a man who has been dead more than two years?” He shook his head, incredulous. “I don’t like secrets, Captain, but in this case, I understand. You did well to guard Lady Estora’s honor.”

“It was F’ryan’s wish that we watch over her, protect her,” Laren said, her heart surging with hope.

“And I will ask you to continue to do so,” he said more softly. “I see no reason for this secret to be revealed to anyone else. At this point, I don’t think Lord Coutre could bring himself to cast out his daughter. And why should he when I am still agreeing to wed her and she will be queen? Still, I think there is no reason to tell him.”

Laren wanted to shout in triumph, but remained quiet and still. This was the response she had hoped for. This was the Zachary she knew.

He turned to Lady Estora and lifted her chin with a forefinger. “My lady, this is a brave thing you have done, to bring me the truth even while knowing what the consequences might have been. Truth often requires courage, and I hope there will only be truth between us when we are wed. You are a credit to your clan and lineage, and I believe F’ryan Coblebay was fortunate to have known you, even as you felt fortunate to have him help you through difficult times.”

Estora sobbed and Zachary produced a handkerchief for her as if by magic.

“Well then,” Laren said brightly. “There’s one more thing I wish to bring up.”

Zachary looked at her stricken. “There’s more?”

She smiled. “Indeed. When are you going to take Lady Estora into your confidence and ask that she attend to court business with you? Better she learn now rather than after she’s been crowned. Don’t you think?”

“I think, Captain Mapstone,” he said in a wry tone, “you should take over the job of running the country. After all, you seem to be running my life pretty well.”

“I must decline, Your Highness. Running your life is pleasure enough.”

W
hen Karigan learned there was to be a ceremony to officially thank those involved in the rescue of Estora, she supposed it to be a simple one in which the king and Lord Coutre expressed their appreciation and that would be that. She was surprised when it turned out to be more.

Every available Rider was to attend, and to wear their formal uniforms, consisting of gold sashes, longcoats, and stocks. Karigan’s saber had been returned to her and now it hung comfortable and familiar at her side. Estora reassured her she’d not drawn it even once during her escape.

The Riders walked in a loose formation through castle corridors with Captain Mapstone, Connly, and Mara at their head. The captain wore the ancient horn of the First Rider over her shoulder and Connly bore the shimmering banner of the Green Riders.

Courtiers, soldiers, servants, and administrators had to step aside to allow the massed Riders to pass and Karigan wondered what they thought of the procession. Had Riders ever made such a show in the castle before? Not in many lifetimes, she bet, and her heart swelled with pride.

When they arrived in the throne room, she found it filled with an ample number of courtiers, Estora, and members of her family; Weapons, Castellan Sperren, and Colin Dovekey, and much to her surprise, General Harborough and Arms Master Drent, the latter scowling.

Standing solitary and solemn upon the dais was King Zachary in black and silver. Several commendations were handed out to both Riders and Weapons for their actions in rescuing Estora and securing the tombs from Second Empire. Beryl received a special commendation in recognition of long service, though details of that service went unspoken.

Karigan thought that was to be it, but then she and Fergal were singled out and commanded by the king to come before him. Drent stepped over and stood before Karigan, glaring at her. She’d never seen him in full uniform before and she thought the buttons of his black longcoat would pop off or his shoulder muscles might burst the seams. He clutched papers and looked none too happy. Maybe his collar was too tight. Or he had indigestion, or…

“It seems a certain Arms Master Rendle thinks you are worthy of commencing swordmaster initiate training,” he said, his tone indicating a difference in opinion. “
Rendle!
Hmph. He has offered to sponsor you as an initiate and will come to Sacor City to train you if I won’t. I therefore have little choice but to commence your training. First thing tomorrow morning. I’ve been easy on you so far, Rider. Be prepared. We’ve also the matter of missing throwing knives to discuss.”

Karigan swallowed hard and felt a bead of perspiration glide down her temple. This was the thanks she got for helping rescue Estora? While she was pleased Rendle thought so much of her skills, she was not so sure he realized what he was getting her into.

Next Lord Coutre came forward with a general of the Coutre provincial militia, bearing a cherrywood coffer. He said, “You rescued my daughter, the future queen of our land, and brought her home safely. I cannot express the depth of my gratitude, for I value nothing more than my family. I love my daughter deeply and never wanted any harm to befall her if it was in my power to protect her. When my power failed, you prevailed.”

Karigan glanced at Estora and was surprised by the stricken expression she found on her friend’s face. Had Estora not known the depth of her father’s love?

“I have here,” Lord Coutre continued, “but a token of my appreciation for what you have done. It is the highest award from Coutre Province, yet still a token. The Order of the Cormorant.”

The general opened the lid of the coffer and nestled inside on velvet were three medals of gold, each with a cobalt ribbon.

“I only wish Lord Amberhill were here to receive his medal,” Lord Coutre said, “for he proved himself valiant in pursuit of my daughter’s abductors.”

Lord Coutre said more words that were lost to Karigan who was so surprised by the honor. Her cheeks warmed as he placed the medal around her neck. It seemed to weigh a hundred pounds.

“You both are always welcome to Coutre Province and in my house,” Lord Coutre said. “You are also now entitled to lands within the province’s borders.”

Karigan was stunned, and when she glanced at Fergal, she saw his eyes had grown large. The knacker’s son was now a landowner and had a place to settle after his service to the Green Riders ended. It was likely more than he ever dreamed possible.

Lord Coutre and his general returned to the sidelines. Estora hugged her father soundly.

Karigan thought this was the end of it all, but Captain Mapstone said to her, “Kneel before your king, Rider G’ladheon.”

Fergal flashed her a smile and backed away to leave her there alone before the king. He evidently knew what was up, the brat!

Karigan knelt, wondering what the king had in mind.

“Long ago our royal ancestors had a way of honoring the heroic individuals who served them,” he said. “This mode of honor fell out of favor at the time of the Clan Wars, for it had been used more to curry favor and loyalty and reward not valor but one’s favorites in court. It now seems wise to restore this honor in its original spirit.

“A thousand years ago, the honor was created by King Jonaeus in the depths of the Long War for those especially heroic individuals who advanced Sacoridia’s cause against the Arcosian Empire. One of the first to receive it was Liliethe Ambrioth, the founder of the Green Riders.

“Because Rider G’ladheon has displayed uncommon courage, not just once, but several times, in the face of dangers unimaginable, I now name her a knight of the realm, in the Order of the Firebrand. Like Liliethe Ambrioth and others who followed, Karigan G’ladheon rides in the light, bears the light, and knows the favor of the gods.”

Knight of the realm? Karigan felt numb all over as the king placed another heavy medal around her neck, this one displaying the crescent moon and the firebrand, and the word “valor.” He took her hands into his, the heat of his touch jolting up her arms, and he raised her to her feet. She glanced into his eyes, and saw how earnestly he gazed back at her as if there was so much more he wanted to say, but could not. She bit her bottom lip and looked away, and he turned her to face the assembled.

“Receive, my fellow Sacoridians,” the king’s voice boomed, “Rider Sir Karigan G’ladheon, knight of the realm.”

The applause thundered right through Karigan and the rest was a blur until sometime during the reception that followed. Many whom she knew and did not know came to her and congratulated her on the honors she had received, while Captain Mapstone stood beside her, a proud smile on her face. Karigan was entirely too bewildered.

Until Fergal came up to her and said, “I think old Cetchum knew something.”

Mention of Rivertown’s crusty ferry master surprised Karigan. “What do you mean?”

“He called you ‘sir,’ right? Aren’t we supposed to call you Sir Karigan now?”

Karigan had no words, and Fergal wandered off laughing at his own cleverness.

“He’s right,” Captain Mapstone said.

“What?”

“The proper address for a knight of the realm is to call you ‘sir.’ In your case, Rider Sir Karigan G’ladheon.”

Karigan gave the captain a sideways glance, but saw no evidence she was joking.

“Could we…could we keep it just Rider?” Karigan asked.

“That’s up to the king,” Captain Mapstone replied, “but you should know he is quite serious about these things.” She smiled and excused herself to speak with Castellan Sperren, leaving Karigan to stew amid the milling crowd. She was rather at a loss.

“Sir Karigan?” Colin Dovekey said, as he approached her.

Karigan winced at the unaccustomed title and bit her lip. “Yes?” she said.

“If I may have a moment? The king wished for me to speak to you.”

She followed Colin out of the throne room and away from the deafening chatter and into a more quiet corridor. As she did so, a quick glance revealed the king standing beside Estora, engrossed in conversation with Lord Coutre and others. Though he’d presented her with the Order of the Firebrand, he’d chosen not to speak private words with her afterward. It made her feel hollow; diminished the honor.

“The king wished for me to give you these papers,” Colin said in a quiet voice. “They came from Lord Mirwell among the messages Rider Duff delivered to the king.”

“What are they?” Karigan asked, receiving the papers.

“An indictment against your father for acts of piracy against this realm, and others.”

“What?”

“There is evidence,” Colin said, “that your father served on a ship called the
Gold Hunter
in his youth. In the years our country skirmished with the Under Kingdoms, the ship served as a privateer, capturing many a ship from the enemy, as well as any goods it carried. After peace came between Sacoridia and the Under Kingdoms, the
Gold Hunter
continued its activities for some years. In other words, captain and crew participated in acts of piracy.”

“My father was a
pirate?
” What else hadn’t he told her? She began to wonder if he’d really acquired his wealth as a merchant, or by piracy.

“Your father would have been no more than of age to be a cabin boy at the time, though that doesn’t entirely absolve him of responsibility. However, because of his contribution to commerce in Sacoridia, his personal contributions in outfitting the Green Riders, and the subsequent savings to the treasury, the king has decided to overlook your father’s connection to the
Gold Hunter,
and give you this evidence to do with as you wish.”

Karigan glanced at the papers. An old stained sheaf looked to be a ship’s crew roster, and there was her father’s name. She grabbed the nearest lamp and burned them right there in the corridor.

“Although one cannot say for sure Lord Mirwell’s motive in bringing this evidence forward at this time,” Colin said, “it appears he holds some malice toward your clan. Rider Spencer herself dug up the information under old Lord Mirwell’s command a couple years ago, and assures us this is the extent of it, and you know she is thorough. However, one cannot say for sure if Lord Mirwell won’t come forward more publicly, though without evidence he won’t have much of a case, but it may embarrass your clan. In light of this, the king asked me to reassure you that Clan G’ladheon has his favor and protection.”

Colin seemed about ready to end the incredible conversation, but he paused and smiled. “One more thing, Sir Karigan. You are now entitled not only to lands in Coutre Province, but anywhere in Sacoridia you like. The king emphasized how lovely Hillander Province is in any season.”

With that, Colin excused himself and returned to the reception. Karigan stood there in the corridor, the medals dragging on her neck. She put her hand to her temple, unable to process all she’d experienced and been told this day.

She’d acquired honors and lands. She was a knight of the realm. Her father had been a
pirate?
She sighed. She really needed to sit down and have a lengthy chat with him, about his trying to marry her off and the various digressions of his past. The Golden Rudder. The
Gold Hunter.
He was really into gold. And she groaned.

But everything could wait. She listened for a moment to the clamor coming from the reception. She ought to return, but she did not. No, it was sunny out, and not too cold, and Rider Sir Karigan G’ladheon was of a mind that it was a perfect time to saddle her horse and go for a ride. A
long
ride.

Pleased by her plan, she set off with long, swift strides, never knowing that just moments later, her king stepped out into the corridor desiring to speak with her.

Z
achary had observed Karigan depart the festivities with Colin, but to his dismay, she did not return to the throne room when his counselor did. He wished ardently to talk with her—alone—before the event was over and so he tried to make his way through the throne room to the corridor, but it was no easy task to break away from all those who clamored for his attention.

When he at last reached the corridor, she was already gone. Gone like a spirit of the wind he would never be able to grasp.

He stood there in the empty corridor, feeling bereft, feeling she was beyond his reach because of more than the gulf created by his royal status and her common blood. He’d sensed a difference about her since the tombs, a mystery. It was subtle, something in her eyes, an aspect of midnight, as though she’d been touched by something not of this world.

He feared for her; feared for himself that she was slipping away, that he’d lose her entirely. It only strengthened his desire to fold her into his arms, to bring her closer, to protect her. He refused…he refused to let her go, to be taken by…by what?

He stood there, rubbed his upper lip in consternation. Then closed his eyes and bowed his head, the babble in the throne room fading away. She could be taken by anything. Her job, her duty, it was dangerous. Any message errand she went out on could be her last. He could command that she go on only the simplest of errands, the least dangerous ones, but even his royal status could not override her calling.