Chapter Thirteen

Leah’s gaze was already fixed on the doorway before the herald appeared. Dressed in distinctive red and white, the young woman hailed the tutor. “Forgive the intrusion, tutor-master–”

“They are here?” Leah was already on her feet.

“Yes, Highness. The royal party–”

“The Sanctuary?”

“Yes, Highness.”

Without waiting for permission to leave, Leah was already half-running out of the room, barely aware of the rising tide of nervous chatter flowing behind her.

Despite the light rain, a crowd had gathered outside the Sanctuary. They parted, albeit reluctantly when they realised Leah was struggling to get past them. Once inside, the way was clear for her to race up to the royal cubicles on the first floor.

The councillors and commanders were already there, and they turned to face her as she approached. Council-leader Ladion stepped forward and bowed as much as his age-stooped body would allow.

She grabbed him by his stick-thin arms. “Are they–?”

“They are here, Highness, yes. Brice is still seeing to the king.”

She gradually became aware of the subdued atmosphere, of the grief etched on the faces around her, and fought to keep her senses closed to anything unpleasant. “How badly is he hurt?”

“His sword arm is... the injury is severe,” he finished softly.

“Is Mother with him? And Evalan?”

“No, Highness. She is resting in here, with the prince.” He indicated the cubicle across from them.

Nodding, she entered the room and stopped.

Maeve lay on the bed, her eyes closed; so pale as if all the blood had been drained from her, which made the dark bruise on the side of her face even more unnatural.

Leah pressed her lips together and clenched her hands. Then turned her attention to Evalan, who lay curled up against Maeve. With his thumb in his mouth, he seemed more of an infant than a young boy. She crossed the room to lay a trembling hand on his head. “Evalan? It’s Leah.”

His eyes slowly moved until they met hers. “Leah?”

“Yes, my darling. You’re home now, you’re with me. You’re safe.”

“Leah...” His voice caught as he lifted his arms.

She gathered him into her embrace and lowered herself to the floor before making him look at her. The bruises and scratches on his tear-stained face were healing but still visible. She cradled him close, rocking him gently.

“Leah?”

She struggled to her feet, still holding Evalan against her. “Mother...” She reached out to take Maeve’s hand.

“Are we...?”

“You’re home, Mother. In the Sanctuary.”

Maeve closed her eyes; still the tears escaped.

Leah leaned over and rested her cheek on her mother’s forehead.

The door opened. “My lady, Highnesses, forgive the intrusion.”

Leah straightened and turned to face the hunched, lean frame of Brice. His normally ruddy face was pallid, and he seemed to have acquired more lines on an already lined face.

Maeve struggled to sit up; Leah quickly moved to support her. “Edmon? Where is he?”

“He is resting, my lady.”

When Brice didn’t continue, Leah asked, “How is he? Ladion said... we were told he’d been injured.”

“We tried to save it... the only way to save his life was to remove it.”

“What?” Frowning, Maeve looked from one to the other.

“His sword arm?” asked Leah.

Brice nodded, his shoulders sagging even more.

Leah squeezed her eyes shut as if that small gesture could somehow contain the deluge of emotion that threatened to engulf her. She wanted to scream and cry but now was not the time, she had to be strong; she couldn’t crumble... not yet, for both, Maeve and Evalan, had turned to her in tears. 

*          *          *          *

Leah paused at the panelled, dark wood doors, aware that the councillors and commanders were waiting for her on the other side, in the Council Chamber. She was also aware that the Council could proceed very well without her; after all, she was barely eighteen, with no practical experience either as a councillor or warrior. But protocol demanded that Council meetings be attended by either the king or, in his absence, another royal. At this precise moment, Leah was the only royal able to. And she wanted to for she believed it was the right thing to do... the good thing to do, something someone touched by a demon lord would not do.

However, she couldn’t simply turn up in any old outfit; she had to present herself accordingly. And so her small gold tiara nestled in her hastily brushed raven and white hair. She adjusted the jewelled girdle that encircled the waist of her pale-blue gown, the colour of which served to enhance her pallor rather than conceal it. Drawing a shaky breath, Leah nodded to the guard who opened the door for her.

She stepped into the vast rectangular room and instantly felt dwarfed. The only decoration on the plain, panelled walls was portraits of past kings. The large oval table, its highly polished surface reflecting the light from high windows, dominated the room. At the head of it stood the monarch’s imposing chair, covered in sumptuous red fabric. Embroidered in white on the back was the royal emblem: a pair of crossed swords over a circle. Arrayed around the table were another twenty-four chairs, for the twelve councillors and twelve commanders. They had all risen when she’d entered.

Gossamer white hair floating about his gaunt head, Ladion smiled tightly, and indicated Edmon’s chair.

Leah’s gown swished around her, as she made ready to sit. Spending most of her time in recruits’ tunic and trousers, she now found gowns restrictive and uncomfortable, which added to her nervous apprehension.

She glanced quickly at the grim faces of the councillors on her left, then the commanders on her right. Stopping at last on the empty chair nearest her. Geren’s death had hit them all hard.

“What happened?” She would follow protocol up to a point; procedure and niceties were not her priority.

Deputy-commander Berkhos, temporarily in charge until the promotion procedure was complete, cleared his throat. He scanned the papers before him. Blue eyes made startlingly bright by his sun-darkened skin, lifted to meet Leah’s. “The royal party was five days from Arcspan when they were approached by what we now know were brigands dressed as warriors.”

Leah frowned.

“They had captured a patrol, taken their horses and uniforms.”

“The patrol?”

“Dead.” He paused; she nodded for him to continue. “The rear of the column was attacked with arrows before the brigands charged. Then more brigands came from the rear. One of the warriors distinctly heard a brigand shout, ‘Get the boy’. We have concluded that their target was Prince Evalan.”

Leah gripped the arms of the chair, but her face remained expressionless.

He quickly detailed what had followed. “Before the brigands could capture the prince, reinforcements arrived in the form of a patrol, and riders from Furist. Even though the brigands were already dressed in the patrol’s uniforms when they rode past some Furist hunters, still the hunters were suspicious; they weren’t acting like Orenheart warriors.”

“Prisoners?” said Leah.

He shook his head. “There were no brigand survivors.”

“How many did we lose?”

“Seven dead, including the queen’s maid; she’d covered the queen’s body with her own, keeping her safe.”

Silence followed his words as they waited for Leah to speak.

“They have never attacked us before. Not like this, not directly...”

“We can only guess,” said Daven, “but we believe that seeing the party progress to Kurabar gave the brigands enough time to set up their attack. And it’s common knowledge that the king makes this journey every other year.”

“You believe this was planned?”

“Attacking a patrol, stealing their uniforms... yes, Highness, we believe this was planned in advance.”

“But my family didn’t stay the usual sixteen days in Kurabar, they were returning earlier.”

“The brigands must have had spies posted,” said Daven. “They were still prepared enough to execute their plan.”

“Your father would have paid any price, done anything to get the prince home safe.” Ladion was the oldest councillor there, having been elected in her grandfather’s time.

“I never believed we would be in such direct danger. That they would dare attack so openly... And now we have paid the price for our complacency.” Leah straightened, hands flat on the table before her. “Will Geren’s replacement be elected soon?”

“Yes, Highness,” said Berkhos. “We have already begun the procedure.”

“Good.” Leah’s calm expression belied the turmoil that raged within. “I would like to suggest that patrols between the Road and the Grimwood be doubled, and along the settlements as well. Their objective is to capture at least one brigand alive for interrogation. We need to know what their plan was... if they intend to keep trying in the hopes that they may succeed.”

Ladion seconded her suggestion, and Berkhos agreed for the commanders.

“I will send word to you when Geren’s replacement has been chosen, Highness.”

“Thank you, Berkhos.” Her gaze swept over the councillors and commanders. “I will endeavour to perform this task to the best of my ability. But I ask that you please be patient with me for it is not my intention to step on anyone’s toes.”

Ladion reached over and placed his ancient, papery hand on hers. “We have every faith in you, Highness. For have you not been trained by the best?” He winked at her, and she had to smile as a few chuckles sounded around the room; Ladion had been the one responsible for instructing Leah on royal protocol.

“I’ll try not to disappoint you,” she whispered.