Nightfall: Book Two of the Chronicles of Arden (56 page)

Liro’s smug demeanor faltered. For just a moment, Gib could see rage, perhaps even terror, flash behind the young lord’s cold eyes. Liro had himself under absolute control an instant later, leaving Gib to doubt whether he’d actually witnessed the display of emotion at all.

“Why was
he
allowed in there?” Hasain asked as he pushed his way to the front of the crowd. “Understudies weren’t granted entrance today!”

Liro cocked his head to the side and turned an arrogant smile onto Hasain. “Oh, haven’t you heard? I’m not an understudy, bastard. I’ve been elected onto the High Council.”

Hasain stumbled back a step, his face white as a sheet. “H–how?”

“It would seem the tables have turned, Radek.” Liro’s savage voice lashed Hasain. “Does it infuriate you to know I’ve claimed my rightful place while you still try to ignore yours? Does the knowledge that you
never were
my equal make you feel slighted in some way?”

Koal lurched forward, and Gib was certain that if Roland and Marc hadn’t immediately stepped in to catch the seneschal’s arms, he would have struck Liro this time.

Hasain didn’t even seem to notice. Shaking his head, he turned a stunned, blank expression onto the newly elected councilor. “Your promotion doesn’t infuriate me. It terrifies me. Arden will falter and fail in treacherous hands such as yours.”

Liro’s cold mask cracked yet again. “How dare you—”

Neetra’s shrill call from within the council chamber drew Liro’s attention, and he pursed his lips, momentarily caught between venting his wrath and following the commands of the apparent steward.

“That’s right, Liro,” Marc taunted with dead eyes. “Run. Your master beckons.”

With a final growl, Liro turned on his heel and slunk away.

Gib watched the lord’s back as he disappeared into the gloom of the council chamber. What would happen now? Was Neetra really in control of the country? Had Liro truly been voted onto the High Council?

Koal’s hard stare fell across the hall. “Follow me, all of you. There’s no time to explain.”

No one said a word as they followed behind the seneschal. Gib wanted to question someone—anyone—but his jumbled mind couldn’t think of anything to say, so he lowered his head and ran to keep up with the group.

“Koal, what happened in there?” Nawaz’s voice rose above their thundering footsteps.

Koal didn’t pause or stop. “Neetra is steward. Anders is High Councilor. They tried to have me removed as seneschal, but they failed by one vote.”

“How did Liro get voted on?” Hasain’s hands trembled as he walked just ahead of Gib. “Weren’t there objections?”

“Oh, there were objections,” Marc replied. “But not enough. This whole thing was planned. There’s no way in hell it wasn’t.”

Diddy’s words tumbled from his mouth as if he couldn’t catch his breath. “There must be something we can do! This is treason!”

“No proof.” Koal didn’t even glance back as they ascended to the second floor, and Gib realized where they were heading. The hall of royal portraits loomed before them. “And at this point,” the seneschal continued in a terse voice, “I don’t even know who to appeal to. The numbers are quickly shifting from our favor.”

“What about the Radek line?” Hasain asked. “And the rest of us? What about our family?”

They lurched to such a sudden stop that Gib collided into Nawaz’s back, grazing the wooden crossbow slung over his shoulder. In lighter times, it would have been comical, but now it barely warranted more than a shared glance between them.

Koal put his hands on either of Hasain’s shoulders and looked him squarely in the eye. “You know I served your father and his reign. I will sooner die than allow your family—any of them—to be hurt or tossed aside. That’s why we have to hurry now.” Koal’s eyes skimmed the group, lingering on Kezra. “Are we
sure
everyone here is an ally?”

Gib took Kezra’s rigid hand on reflex. “Anders Malin-Rai’s children are their own. Kezra is our friend.”

Koal must have been satisfied with the answer given. He nodded and swept off, leaving them all running to catch up. They were nearly to the royal suite before Gib realized he was still grasping Kezra’s hand. She stared at the floor with a dark face, but her firm grip led him to believe his presence wasn’t unwanted.

Blessed Mage Natori lingered beneath the tall doorframe of the royal suite and quickly ushered the entire group inside. Battle-ready with sword drawn and a strange, blue mage orb hovering above, she looked fierce and formidable.

Natori waved each of them through the threshold, but Gib hesitated for just a moment.
Our boots. We’re supposed to remove our boots
. No one did, and in the next instant, he was being pushed along and had no choice but to move forward.

Inside the suite, the other Blessed Mage, NezReth, stood beside Bailey. The servant leaned over a candlelit table, never glancing up as his quill scratched maddeningly at an open sheet of parchment.

NezReth’s uncanny violet eyes didn’t blink even once as he observed the group. “Our worst case scenario has been realized then?”

Koal shook his head. “Not quite. I’ve retained my position as seneschal, but the rest is a wash. We need to do this now.”

Gib fumbled as Roland grabbed hold of his arm. “Someone get Gib a sword!”

What is going on?
Gib’s head swam as the Weapons Master drew his own weapon and pointed for Gib and Kezra to join him beside Natori at the front door. Koal vanished deeper into the suite before returning with a heavy broadsword. The seneschal thrust the weapon at Gib, and he grimaced, feeling the tension in his shoulders. The blade was too long for him. Typical.

“It’ll have to do,” Koal said, giving Gib a thump on the arm before spinning around. “Joel, Nawaz, to the balcony window. Hasain, you too, just in case.”

Gib watched in bewilderment as Nawaz nocked a bolt into his bow, and blue fire burst to life in the palms of Hasain’s and Joel’s hands as they pooled their mage energy.

Gib couldn’t take it anymore. “What are we doing, exactly?”

“Saving someone from being exiled,” Hasain replied without even sparing Gib a glance.

It was all too much. An excess of questions tumbled around Gib’s mind as he tried to make sense of it all.
Exiled? Who? Why does everyone have a weapon? Are we expecting an attack?
Fed up, Gib groaned and raised his question once more. “I know I’m not supposed to ask, but will someone
please
tell me what the hell is going on?”

“A wedding, Master Nemesio,” replied a gentle voice.

Queen Mother Dahlia stepped into the room without any of her usual grace or charm, her beautiful face drawn into a mockery of itself and large, brown eyes heavy with exhaustion. Little Princess Gudrin clung to one of her arms while Crowned Prince Deegan trailed just behind her.

“I’m not much fit to be a bride today,” Dahlia continued in a pained tone. “But I doubt my brother will allow me to wait.”

“You know this will be one of Neetra’s first orders,” Koal said, his own voice labored by regret. “It has to be done now.”

Bailey’s quill scribbled furiously. “He has to be knighted first. He can’t marry the Queen Mother unless he’s of noble descent. Hurry.”

A commotion arose from the other room as Marc and Diddy scrambled out with Aodan in tow. The bodyguard reminded Gib of a wild-man, with disheveled red hair and single eye wide with unease. Marc and Diddy all but shoved Aodan into position between Dahlia and Koal.

“Knight him, Koal.” NezReth’s breathy words were barely louder than a whisper. “And then move aside so I can marry them. Time is likely running short.”

Koal drew his sword in one swift motion and turned to face Aodan. “Kneel.”

Aodan did as he was told, visibly shaking. Gudrin left her mother’s side to set one, small hand on the bodyguard’s back. Deegan did the same, offering silent support.

Placing the tip of his blade first on Aodan’s left shoulder and then the right, Koal proceeded with the ceremony. “For the protection of Arden and her people, by the power vested in me, Lord Seneschal Koal Adelwijn, I proclaim you Master Aodan Galloway, knight of Arden. Arise.”

Dahlia and Aodan were as grave as they’d been the day before at the King’s funeral when NezReth stepped in front of them with an open text resting in the palms of his hands. No professions of love were declared while the Blessed Mage read the wedding rites aloud. Bride and groom stood stone-faced, staring at NezReth with vacant eyes. When asked if they agreed to be wed, each responded with a simple yes and aye, respectively. No rings were given nor were pleasantries exchanged. Gloom filled every corner of the room. Gib could almost taste it on the air.

NezReth closed the ancient text so sharply a cloud of dust spewed forth from within the yellowed pages. “By the power vested in me, I declare you husband and wife.”

It was over. The Queen Mother and her bodyguard were married.

Bailey wasted no time. He cleared his throat, motioning down at the drying parchment papers. “You’re all to be witnesses. You’ll have to sign both documents.”

Gib hadn’t even processed everything that had just happened when Roland jerked his head around and issued a cautionary grunt. “There’s noise in the hall! We’re about to have guests!”

Bailey made an undignified noise as he called for the witnesses to come forward. “Don’t knock over the inkwell. Bride and groom, sign your names! Aodan, sign this one as well—Koal, you too, but not the marriage license. Family cannot bear witness. All right, everyone gather around. Step forward and sign both documents now.
Hurry
!”

In a rush of bodies, they all clambered over to the table. Gib fumbled as he picked up the quill and etched his name onto both sheets of parchment. He handed the writing utensil to Hasain next and scrambled aside, watching as everyone else took their turn.

Just as Bailey had finished scratching his own name in place, Natori hissed a warning from the doorway. “
Now!
They’re here!”

Gripping the oversized sword, Gib staggered his stance, body tense and mind sharp, ready to fight if need be. The sound of clanking armor and marching boots filled his ears. He held his breath, waiting.

Half a dozen soldiers rounded the corner, clad in head-to-toe armor and swords swaying on their hips. Liro led the procession, his long strides haughty and confident. A single mage orb floated above his right shoulder, the hazy blue light illuminating the corridor and reflecting off the newly elected councilor’s gleaming eyes.

“Lower your weapons!” Liro demanded as he came to a stop in front of the royal suite. The sentinels waited behind him with hands resting on hilts. “By order of the Steward of Arden, I command you to do as I say!”

Natori sneered, but she and Roland exchanged a heavy look before lowering their blades. Gib and Kezra did the same, following the example given them.

Liro’s smile was arrogant. “Good. Now part and let us through. I have orders to collect one Aodan Galloway.”

Gudrin and Deegan both wailed from behind Dahlia, and on reflex, Diddy and Tular stepped up to flank Aodan. The bodyguard fell back a pace and watched, poised as if to flee, as Liro slithered through the crowded room. The newest member of the High Council held a scroll in hand. He waved it as shrewd eyes locked onto his target. “Ah, there you are, Derr. I have been sent to see you home. It would seem you’ve finally managed to outstay your welcome.”

Aodan shook his head but words failed him. When Liro came even closer, the bodyguard cast a wild glance toward the balcony. Gib held his breath.
Don’t jump. Don’t do it. You’ll break your neck
.

Venom dripped from Liro’s fangs like a viper. “Is the caged bird contemplating escape?”

“What the hell is the meaning of this?” Koal demanded. The seneschal’s unwavering presence brought sanity back to the situation. “Why are you here?”

Liro held the scroll out, waving it beneath his father’s nose. “To deport the foreigner, of course. Perhaps you’d like to read the decree yourself?”

“
No!
” Gudrin let out a yelp and tore away from the Queen Mother. The little girl launched herself into Aodan’s arms, clinging to him for dear life.

Koal barely spared a moment for the display. His stanch eyes were fixed onto his eldest son. “As seneschal of Arden, I tell you there is no foreigner among us. Aodan Galloway is a knighted noble, and his marriage to Queen Mother Dahlia Adelwijn affords him permanent residency in Arden.”

Conflict flickered behind Liro’s eyes as he paused and looked around the room. “That’s not—that’s—
impossible!
”

Bailey, still fanning the damp ink on the parchment, glared at the young lord from his position behind the table. “Oh, but I’m afraid it’s
not
impossible. See for yourself, young Master, and then go tell that tyrant, Neetra Adelwijn, that he’s too late!”

Gib watched as Liro floundered, mouth agape. When the councilor turned to look at the sentinels who’d accompanied him, they wouldn’t meet his terrible gaze. Red faced, Liro drew his mouth into a thin line. He knew he was beaten. A smile crossed Gib’s lips. This victory—small as it was—was a victory nonetheless.