Valiant (17 page)

But my fear made me angry, and my anger gave me courage.

“Why should I speak with you, girl?”

“I am lady-in-waiting to the princess.”

He raised an eyebrow. “She lets you stray so far from her? I shall have to talk to her. She shouldn’t let her treasures wander away. I never trust mine to great distances.”

I swallowed back my revulsion.

“Please, Your Grace. My lady, the princess, wishes to know: who is Oma?”

The duke cocked his head. “
Oma?
Where would she have heard that word? Did her champion tell her that the giants whimpered it as he overpowered them?” The mockery in the duke’s voice flashed like a knife.

“I never said he was a champion,” I answered quickly, too quickly.

I thought the duke’s laugh seemed like it would never end. “So you despise him as well! You show more good taste than the rabble that gathers around him.”

I despised the champion more than he would ever know. It helped, though, that the duke wasn’t aware of who stood before him. I almost smiled. Almost.

“I would think you would wish to please my lady, yet you still haven’t given her an answer: who is Oma?”

He smiled. “Tell your lady that Oma was the last word on the young giant’s lips. He was scared and fought. It took two of my captains to hold him for execution.”

The duke chuckled to see me flinch.

I lifted my chin and asked him one last time: “Who is Oma?”

He made me wait. “It means
mother
in the old giant tongue. Didn’t the princess’s champion know that?”

“
I
s there anything
else your lady wishes to know?” asked the duke.

“No.” I had to press my heels into the ground to keep from running.

The duke must have seen my struggle. He smiled.

Did he ever stop smiling?

I smiled back as if I weren’t scared, as if I could stand there before him and the bloodied heads of the two giants all day. Finally, I curtsied and walked away. As soon as I was out of sight, I dashed back to the throne room, desperate to know what King Eldin planned to do.

The main doors were already closed. Just as well. I didn’t want Leymonn to see me. He’d be far too happy to send the champion to fight one of the duke’s giants.

I rounded a corner, moving toward the doors at the back of the throne room. A guard was already closing them, muffling the shouts coming from within.

“Wait!” I called.

The guard paused.

“I am maid to Princess Lissa! She would not wish to be left alone.”

The guard looked over his shoulder, but I slipped inside before he could ask the princess.

The throne room was in chaos. Only Princess Lissa stood quietly behind the massive throne. Perhaps she was afraid she’d be sent away if anyone saw her. She waved me over, and I joined her, just as anxious to be out of sight.

“I won’t retreat to my room and wait to be told of Eldin’s decision,” she whispered to me.

I had never agreed with her more.

“Who sent the rangers?” Leymonn’s smooth voice cut through the clamor. I couldn’t see him. He must still be standing at the king’s side. The princess and I peered around, careful to keep out of sight.

Lord Verras stepped to the middle of the room and bowed, ignoring Leymonn. Verras’s gaze rested on me a moment, and he shook his head.
Stay back
.

I nodded, and retreated farther into the shadows, pulling the princess with me.

“You sent them, Verras? On whose authority?”

The room fell silent.

“I assumed you would want news before you advised the king.” Lord Verras clenched his jaw. “Was I wrong? Had you already decided what you would advise?”

The silence reminded me of an approaching storm, before the lightning has begun.

Leymonn’s voice echoed from the corners of the high ceiling. “Your foolishness gave the duke opportunity! Look how he has frightened the court and the king!”

Lord Verras shrugged out of his coat, never taking his eyes off Leymonn. At first, I thought he meant to fight the advisor. But Verras walked to the heads of the two rangers and dropped his coat over them, then looked at the king.

“Restan and Tannis were brave men. They wouldn’t wish their deaths to dishearten … the city.”

I wished I could see King Eldin’s face, hoped that Lord Verras’s words gave him courage.

“I should have you confined to your miserable rooms under the castle,” said Leymonn. “You wouldn’t be able to—”

“Stop it, stop it!” King Eldin’s voice had a sharp, panicked note to it.

Lord Verras kept his gaze on his cousin.
Please
, I chanted to myself,
please let him find some way to strengthen the king
. Reggen deserved a king who would not run and hide.

The king’s voice was steadier when he spoke again. “There’s only a week. What can we do? Tell me.”

One of the nobles, an older one with a medallion, glanced at Lord Verras, and nodded. Leymonn scowled at the deference given Verras, but did not speak. The man with the medallion stepped forward.

“The steward of the city,” whispered the princess.

“Your Majesty, the Kriva runs through channels under the city. In case of siege, we would have enough water. I am more concerned about the walls themselves. I do not know if they could stand a direct assault from giants. Without more information”—another involuntary glance at Lord Verras—“we
can’t know for sure. But I believe the wall would be torn down before the city would run out of food or water.”

The king did not answer. I wanted to walk out from behind the throne and shake him until he found some spark of courage inside himself. Lord Verras looked up at the throne, mouth set, as if he could will his cousin to answer.

Still nothing.

Another man stepped forward. He wore a leather breastplate and had a close-cropped gray beard. He cleared his throat, looking toward the king, then beside him, to Leymonn.

“The minister of war,” whispered Lissa.

Did Reggen even have an army? I knew only of the city guard and the castle guard. I would ask Lord Verras later.

“Your Majesty, we would need time to prepare for war with giants. We have five catapults—maybe eight if some can be repaired. They might hold the army off for a week, especially if the giants must cross the bridge to reach Reggen.” He looked at Lord Verras. “Do we know whether they can cross the Kriva?”

Lord Verras shook his head. “Not for certain. If the stories are true, they set Reggen’s foundation stones. We should assume they can cross the river.”

“Then our weapons might buy us a day or two. We’ll need troops from our allies.” The minister’s gaze skimmed over the lumps beneath Lord Verras’s coat on the floor. “I don’t know if riders could reach the other River Cities quickly enough.”

I thought I heard a low, shuddering breath from the king. The minister of war could barely hide his disgust. I didn’t
blame him. No captain would tolerate such cowardice in a soldier. “There is perhaps another way.…”

When the king didn’t answer, Leymonn said, “Tell us.”

“I hate employing such underhanded methods, but a small group of soldiers could attempt an assassination.”

Another man spoke up. “And what happens to the giants, then? Do you think they’ll just go away?”

“Do you have another idea?” the minister of war snapped. “Yes, the giants may go back …” He waved a hand toward the north. “… wherever! The duke has made a claim against Reggen, not the giants. They may not be intelligent enough to plan an attack on their own!”

They were. I knew they were. They might be easily fooled, but they were not stupid.

The ministers argued on, and still, the king did not speak.

Lord Verras waited until they grew silent. “You’re assuming soldiers could even reach the duke.” His voice faltered. “These rangers were some of the best. They could track their quarry quietly. If the giants found and caught them, your soldiers will not succeed.”

Another shuddering breath from the throne. Was the king
crying
?

“There is another way.…” Leymonn’s voice, low and sweet, as if he were coaxing a child from her hiding place. “Two, actually.”

No one spoke. No one, I supposed, wanted to ask him to explain himself.

“What do you mean?” It was the king’s voice, brittle as an old man’s bones.

“We give the duke what he wants.”

Everyone stared at Leymonn as if they didn’t trust their ears. Then the room erupted.

“Give him Reggen? Give him the throne?”

“Let him marry the princess?”

“He means the champion! Just the tailor.”

But Lord Verras spoke for them all. “You
cannot
be serious! You know the duke will not be satisfied until he marries the princess and sits on Reggen’s throne.”

“And kills the tailor,” prompted Leymonn. “Don’t forget that. But you misunderstand me.”

“Tell us what you mean, Leymonn!” gasped the king.

“Escape. I’ve heard there are tunnels that lead out of Reggen. The king could escape.”

“And you, too, I suppose?” asked a man I did not know.

“I’ll remember you said that, Anders!” snapped Leymonn.

“What about Reggen?” Lord Verras asked. “The duke might raze the city.”

“The king would return with an army to reclaim Reggen.”

I didn’t believe the king capable of leading an army. No one in the room did. But Leymonn might. What a masterful stroke that would be: escape the duke’s wrath, then return with an army to drive him out of the city. If Leymonn won, Reggen would crown him king.

“The king cannot reclaim Reggen if it is demolished,”
argued Lord Verras. “We cannot leave the city defenseless.”

Lord Verras did not take his eyes from the king. I’d never seen such hope, such pleading, such confidence. The blood-smeared floor, the king’s frantic gasps echoing from the far walls, they all faded away. I wondered what would have happened if the Tailor had looked at me the way Lord Verras looked at his cousin … if I’d seen that trust just once in the Tailor’s eyes.

“We’ll discuss this later,” said the king. “I must rest.”

I released the breath I didn’t even know I’d been holding.

“Your arm, Lord Leymonn,” said the king. “I am weary.”

“I am ever at your service.” Leymonn helped King Eldin off the dais.

No man as young as the king should be so undone, so disheartened that he walked like an old man. He saw the princess and me as he passed, and motioned us toward him. I could see he was frightened beyond reason.

“You heard it all?” he asked his sister.

She nodded, lips thin with disapproval.

“Don’t hate me,” he whispered. “You can’t hate me. Tor said this would happen, you know. That I’d bungle being a king if I ever got the chance. He said so, and he was always right. I know. You don’t have to tell me. He’s the one who should have been here. Not me.”

Princess Lissa shook her head, as if nothing he said mattered. “I will not marry the duke, Eldin. I will not have giants dance at my wedding.”

The king winced. “Take me to my rooms, Leymonn.”

The princess watched as the king walked away, leaning on his advisor.

“Come, Saville,” she said. “You may read to me. I am sure Nespra and Kara will be too worried to do it properly.”

I curtsied, trying not to let my own fear show. I looked over my shoulder at the emptying throne room. Lord Verras stood alone, beside the covered heads of his two rangers. Why wasn’t anyone helping him? They’d looked to him, the youngest one there, when King Eldin demanded answers from them.

“Now, Saville!” Princess Lissa was white around her lips, and who could blame her? We’d listened to her brother weep like a child. He would give her away to save himself.

But then, Leymonn had liked the idea of letting the duke
kill
me.

“My lady, I cannot go with you.”

“What? Why?” She asked the questions with such force that I wondered if anyone had ever told her
no
. She was as spoiled as her brother in some ways. She didn’t want giants to dance at her wedding, but she didn’t seem to even think about Reggen or the souls that filled the city.

Another glance over my shoulder. Lord Verras knelt, tucking the edges of his coat underneath the bloody heads. He gathered them up, stood, and walked away, cradling the gruesome burden. Had he ever possessed an ally besides Lord Cinnan?

He needed one. Reggen needed him to have one.

“You are my maid, Saville!” Princess Lissa caught my arm, turning me back to her. “You will do as I say.”

I tugged my arm from her grip.

“No, my lady. You said I was a pawn.” I stepped away from her and was happy to see her flinch. “And from now on, I will play myself.”

I left her standing there, mouth open, and ran to find Lord Verras.

A
fter two wrong
turns, I found him in the courtyard.

There was none of the usual midafternoon bustle, only the retreating form of a ranger.

Lord Verras’s hands were empty—and covered in the rangers’ blood. He stared as if he didn’t know what to do with them. As if he didn’t know what to do with himself.

I stepped into the courtyard, blinking against the sunlight. Lord Verras didn’t move, even when I stood beside him.

Finally, I put a hand on his arm.

He peered down at me, surprised. “Saville?”

Any other time, calling me by my given name would have been an intimacy. But he spoke so plainly, as if he needed something to hold to.

“You should go to your room, Lord Verras.”

He nodded but didn’t move.

I looped my arm through his, careful of his bloody hands. “Take me to your room. I don’t remember how to get there.”

He led me out of the courtyard so quickly I almost couldn’t keep up with him. He sped down the dark corridor, turning left and right without hesitation. In no time we had arrived.

The coals in the fireplace threw little light. I went to his cluttered desk, found a candle, and lit it at the fireplace. I found another and lit that one, too. And another. It shouldn’t be so dark.