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Chapter 9

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Dain turned to help Garan down from his perch by the carriage driver, but the little boy had other ideas. He leapt from his seat, landing in a large snow bank very close to the horses. The animals saw a blur of motion, and they skittered away from it. Dain had to help the driver pull the horses down while the ladies were jostled around inside. Normally, they would have taken a transfer instead of the more formal carriage, but there were maintenance issues with the transfers. Transportation didn’t have any available that weren’t being worked on. Not that it really mattered, except for having the animals to contend with.

The carriage steadied. Bronwyn got out and started for her son.

“He didn’t really know that was going to happen,” Dain said quickly, hoping to spare Garan a scolding. Bronwyn glared at him and Dain suddenly felt like he’d violated some unspoken rule about a mother’s right to discipline her child. He remembered his father being the recipient of just the same sort of expression, remembering as well what Ambrose had done. Her stress level seemed higher than was normal, but he didn’t know what she was worried about. He shook his head at her. “No harm done.”

“We’re not used to being out like this and well, he will run off,” she said, helping a silent Garan out of the snow and brushing him off none too gently. “I need you to help see that he behaves while we’re here.”

“Sure. Of course I will. There’s not much he can do anyway and all these guards will keep an eye on him too. He’ll be all right.” He smiled at her and she started to relent. He watched Garan, who was attracted by a statue near them. The boy didn’t even look back before he started toward it, but he was immediately followed by two guards. “See?”

He saw by her exasperated frown that she didn’t see and went after his son quickly. He scooped him up as he started to climb the statue, holding him so he could get a better look.

“Who is he?” Garan asked, staring up at the black stone carving.

“The first of your ancestors,” Dain said.

King Alurn Ardin Telaerin, he knew from so many history lessons, both formal and family. The first King of a united system established a thousand years ago, partly in response to the threat of a Yomir invasion, but also because Alurn was a fair-minded man, who convinced countless factions that could have splintered the system to join with him. Cobalt was the only system that had unified without bloodshed. While that peace hadn’t lasted for Brittallia, on Cobalt, Kings and Queens had peacefully handed the ruling scepter to their heirs, in a line unbroken. Until Kamien.

Something else flashed into his mind, of a place that froze coherent thought and stole life. It stood as a black wall against him, but there were cracks in it through which bits and pieces seeped through, of images, people he thought he knew and places he thought he’d been. A long hallway opened around him. Whispering voices called his name and he looked through the opening into the void.

A cool hand held to the side of his face pulled him back from the dark. Dain blinked in the harsh light of day and struggled to draw an even breath while his son looked at him. There was worry in his eyes, but something else too. Maybe it was just the innocence of youth, but for a moment, it seemed like he knew more than he should.

Garan kissed his cheek. “It’s going to be all right,” he said and Dain couldn’t help but smile at his son’s complete confidence.

“I know it is.”

Garan looked up at Alurn again, linking his arms around Dain’s neck and leaning against him. “Did he know ... that bad man ... Maralt?”

The question surprised Dain, especially when the first answer came back yes. He shook his head anyway, confused over where that reaction came from, and he looked up at Alurn. “I don’t think so, no. Alurn died a thousand years ago and Maralt, well, just recently.”

“He killed my grandsir,” Garan said. “I mean...”

“It’s all right for you to call him that, Garan. I miss him too. He was very much a father to me.”

“I stabbed him in the leg,” Garan said.

“Maralt? Wait, you stabbed Maralt? How?”

“With my laser cutter,” Garan said and asked to be let down, so Dain set him back on the ground. He stooped down beside him to hear the rest of this story, afraid and amazed at the same time. “When we lived on base, I stole it. I used it to get through all the fences without anyone knowing. Uncle Dynan said I could keep it, sort of, and when Maralt started killing everyone, Uncle Dynan came to save us. Maralt wouldn’t let me go. I think he wanted to take me with him the same way he took the Princess.” He looked over at Loren at that. Dain put a finger to his lips and Garan nodded. “Uncle Dynan stopped him. He told me to stick him with my laser cutter to get away from him. I mean, he didn’t tell me, but I knew what he wanted me to do somehow. I didn’t think it would work, but he was right, and Maralt let me go.”

“Good for Uncle Dynan,” Dain said quietly.

“He saved us, me, and Lady Carryn.”

“Lady Carryn?” Dain laughed. “I’ve never heard her called that before.”

“She was nice. Maralt was trying to kill her, inside her head, and Uncle Dynan stopped him.”

“Sounds scary.”

Garan nodded to that. “He still thought you were dead then, so he didn’t care about the danger. I’m glad he was wrong about that.”

“Me too.”

“And Maralt’s dead.” He nodded again as if to convince himself.

Dain took his hands and got down on one knee. “Maralt is dead and he can’t hurt you or the people you care about any more. All right?”

Garan’s response to that was to throw himself around Dain again, arms around his neck in a near chokehold. The fear he’d been subjected to made Dain want to kill Maralt all over again. He did his best to assure him that they were safe. “But someone attacked Uncle Dynan.”

“We still have a few enemies, yes, but we’re going to find them and deal with them. Now come on, we have a few things to take care of. Are you ready?”

“Yes. All right.” Garan turned and would have dashed off, having spotted some boys playing in the Market Square, but Dain quickly pulled him back.

“You need to stay with me. No running off. Not while we’re here in town.”

Garan didn’t look happy with the idea, but nodded after thinking about it. Dain took his hand and climbed back to his feet. The Market Square was full of people and they noticed the Royal entourage. Some eyed the guards nervously, but Dain thought that was only from recent past experience with Palace guards. When they saw him and then spotted Shalis, expressions changed again to surprise. The guards though, weren’t allowing anyone to get too close, politely but firmly directing the stray passerby to move away. Still, word spread through the city to adjacent streets. Before long the square was full of people wanting to get a look at them.

Allie moved to stand next to him, looking around at the growing crowd. Dain saw Gaden take up a similar position by Shalis. The other guards drew in closer. “Guess we should have expected this,” Allie said, nodding Dain toward the clothier’s shop.

“What’s the worry? Wasn’t our friendly Governor complaining that we weren’t seen enough? Another problem solved. I don’t want the guards to get out of hand about this, Allie. These people are harmless.”

“I sure hope so. They’re starting to outnumber us.”

“Starting to?” Dain shook his head, nodding pleasantly to the people who called his name, a few reaching for him and Shalis. Before long, the guards were forced inward, forming a line between them and the grasping hands. “This won’t work. Shalis, come with me.”

“What are you doing?” Allie asked, moving after him while he directed the guards to keep up.

“They want a look. We’re going to give them one. Over to the fountain.”

Allie wanted to argue, but he saw the sense in doing things this way, rather than trying to struggle through to the shops. Quickly, he ordered the guard to make a path, ten to either side, and as soon as those near at hand realized where they were heading, they moved out of the way. A small snow-covered lawn divided the square, and a large fountain, its water frozen in flowing streams, marked its center. Dain pulled Shalis onto the wide tiered ledge beside him and a cheer erupted from the crowd beneath them.

Suddenly, it seemed there were two hundred people, with more coming in to see what the excitement was about, wildly happy to see proof before them that the Telaerins were really alive and well. Dain smiled at the swell of relief that filled their voices.

He and Shalis stood while they cheered, waving back, reaching to take hands stretched toward them. Still, they were orderly about it, never crossing the line of stone-faced and alert guards that Allie had set before them. A bouquet of flowers appeared, delivered hand to hand until Shalis took them. Her bright smile prompted an increase in the volume of sound. Finally, Dain raised his hand and waited for the noise to subside.

“Hello.” Another roar erupted, but didn’t last long. “Thank you. We’re pretty happy to be back home too.”

The ensuing clamor forced him to stop and he laughed at the nearly overwhelming power of emotion that flowed from the surrounding faces. These people were more than happy that they were back safely, and they wanted to express that joy. Finally though, they settled again, and Dain was able to go on.

“We’re just here to do a little shopping. Princess Shalis and her ladies need some new gowns.” They cheered at that too, but individual voices reached him and he heard Dynan’s name. “Dynan is fine. Do you think I’d be here if he weren’t? He’s up at the Palace hard at work while the rest of us are here playing. You’ll have a chance to see him tomorrow at the Governor’s Hall. You be sure to give him the same reception, and of course, you’re all invited to the coronation.”

A noise twice as loud as any other rose around him, staggering in volume. Beside him, Shalis almost cringed. “What I want you all to do is tell everyone you know what you’ve seen and heard here today. Now, when you hear official news from the Palace, you can believe that it comes from my brother. Can you do that for us? Good. Thank you all again.”

He stayed where he was for a few minutes longer, listening to them cheer. Before the sound died down he waved again, then helped Shalis down to Gaden, and followed. It took a long time to make their way out of the crowd, which had swelled to probably five hundred people. They all seemed to want to touch him and talk to him. He repeated that Dynan was fine. By the time they reached the clothier’s, the outer fringes of the crowd had already started to disperse. The twenty guards encouraged the rest to move on and most did.

“There, see?” he said to Allie as they reached the shops. “Give them what they want and they go home happy. Let’s get on with this.”

Allie nodded, sending a few guards in ahead, then followed Dain and the women inside. The clothier and his daughters greeted them all warmly. Dain accepted the refreshments they provided gratefully. His throat was dry from having to talk so loud. The mulled wine was soothing. The girls ushered the ladies and Shalis into a separate room. Dain and Garan followed Clothier Ballard Rembrant.

“It’s an honor to have you here, Your Highness. That was a wonderful thing you just did, speaking to the people that way. It’s been many years since this city has seen a Royal presence. We’re truly blessed to have you returned to us safely. May I be of service to you?”

“Thank you and yes, you can. My brother and I need some new clothes and so does my son here.” Dain waited through the expected surprise, guessing by the man’s slightly bemused expression that he thought it a miracle that there weren’t more. “Garan, come here. Could you put that back?”

“Yes, Papa,” Garan said, stuffing the square fabric sample back into the cubbyhole he’d pulled it from. Rembrant bit back a smile.

“This is Clothier Rembrant. He’s going to take your measurements so he can make your clothes.” He turned to the clothier. “He needs a formal uniform for the coronation, three or four sets of every day clothes. Better make that five, and two formal suits.”

“My mamma always makes my clothes for me,” Garan said, frowning a little.

“I don’t think she’ll mind, Garan.”

“I better go ask if it’s all right.”

Before Dain could stop him, Garan scooted out the door. “I don’t remember being that fast when I was his age.” He shook his head and went after his son.

Garan had gone into the ladies dressing room and left the door wide open. There Bronwyn stood with nothing on but her undergarments, a thin shift and a corset that she all but spilled out of. Every guard, including Allie and Gaden, stared at her. She had kept her figure all those years, and Dain found himself enjoying a look as well while Garan asked her if it was really all right for someone else to make his clothes.

Bronwyn looked out at Dain, smiling as she answered. “As long as I can still patch them for you, I don’t mind. Close the door on your way out, son.”

Dain quickly lowered his gaze and punched Gaden in the arm, inducing the young man to do the same. Garan trotted back over to him. “Have you got it all settled now?” Dain asked.

“Yes. She said it’s all right, but as long as s—”

“I heard what she said. Come on. You don’t want to take the rest of the day in here, do you? Me either. You just have to stand still for a few minutes while Rembrant sizes you up.” He guided the little boy into the other room, wishing he’d come with a set of instructions. He thought about his father and the amazing patience he’d displayed and wondered just what he was in for. He saw Allie smiling after them and rolled his eyes.

Garan cooperated just long enough for Rembrant to get his measurements. With that accomplished, Dain sent him out to Gaden. The clothier busied himself while Dain pulled off his jacket and set aside his sword. In short order, his measurements were taken with his preferences for design.

With that finished, Dain pulled a rolled velvet pouch from his jacket pocket, feeling he could trust the clothier with the task Dynan had sent him to town with. “You were the Palace clothier during my father’s time,” he said, thinking he remembered him.

“Actually, my uncle was. I apprenticed under him though, and when he died two years ago, I took over his business with the help of my two girls. I usually handled deliveries and last minute fittings. I have an assistant who does that now, but he’s been away on Altair. I expect him to return tomorrow. He’ll be sorry to have missed all the excitement.” Rembrant glanced at him and the velvet pouch.

“Probably a good thing he wasn’t around. I wish I hadn’t been.” Dain pulled in a breath. “This is a ... delicate situation and it’s imperative that you don’t discuss it with anyone. One misspoken word could mean disaster for Dynan, which in turn, would mean disaster for Cobalt. We still face many enemies.”

“I understand. I’ll keep this in the strictest confidence, Your Highness. I serve Cobalt, and in doing so, serve Prince Dynan. He is our best hope for a better future, with you at his side of course, as was meant to be.”

“No, not me. Once he’s rightfully crowned, I consider my part done. ”

He set the pouch on a nearby counter and unrolled it, revealing the sparkling contents. Rembrant knew at a glance that the hundred or so gems, sapphires as large as a gold piece, and diamonds only slightly smaller were the betrothal gems.

“He wants you to make a betrothal gown. Normally, that wouldn’t be such a problem, but in Dynan’s case, it is. I’m not going to go into all the details of why this is, except to say there are those who wish to see someone other than his desire as Queen. For this reason, it can’t become known who he’s chosen. He can’t acknowledge her publicly yet. If the others I spoke of were to discover that he’s commissioned the betrothal gown for her, he could very well be denied the Throne.”

Rembrant blinked at him, then cleared his throat. “That is serious indeed. If I’m to make the gown, I’ll need to know who she is.”

Dain hesitated, wondering what the clothier would think when he explained how Dynan wanted him to proceed, and would have smiled if it weren’t so important that none of it become known. “Her name is Lady Loren Delian Brassil. She’s from Trea, in the service of Queen Marella. She’s in the next room, and she isn’t to know of the gown either. My brother and I, and you are the only ones who can know about it.”

“That could make constructing the gown somewhat difficult. She’ll have to have at least one fitting before the gown is complete.” Rembrant watched as Dain shook his head.

“You’ll have her measurements from the gowns she’s getting now. The night of the Coronation Ball will be your only chance for a fitting. It’s likely we won’t know until then if her crowning will be possible. You may even hear rumor that his Queen will be someone else. If you hear an official announcement to that effect, you needn’t bother completing the gown.”

The clothier frowned for a moment. “I seem to recall another time when His Highness had this sort of difficulty. There were rumors.”

“Hasn’t changed, except this one isn’t at all like Liselle Telaerin, thank the Gods. Loren is the only bride for Dynan, and the only woman to stand at his side as Queen.”

“The color is to be blue.”

“Yes.”

Rembrant nodded, smiling tightly. “The other components of the gown are usually added last—the fan collar, the train, and the gems—making the actual gown quite plain. I should be able to have her fitted for it without her knowing what it is. The time frame for completing the gown will be difficult, but doable—if I start immediately. I’ll need to hire another assistant who can run the shop, but I’ll need my daughters’ help with this. They’re also in a position to hear things of this nature, and have always proven discrete. In our profession, Your Highness, if we talked to others of what we hear, our business wouldn’t survive long.”

“Can they be trusted to guard their reactions as well? The people who would stop Dynan have many resources.”

“Spies, you mean? Yes, I understand. Would I be incorrect to tell them to be particularly wary of any servants to Queen Alexia and King Creal?”

“No, but you should tell them to be wary of everyone. Spies work for pay, and they have no system loyalty though they may wear a system badge. All right. Tell them what you think is necessary. The coronation is in eighteen days. You’ll have all the gems save two. Those will be with the jeweler to make copies from. I’ll see that they’re delivered to you before Coronation Day.”

He could see that the clothier was surprised to hear of copies being made, but he didn’t ask. Dain judged him the kind of man worthy of trust though, and explained.

“We need a duplicate set of gems in case the opposition requires them. As I said, if you hear an official announcement, your efforts will have been wasted. We plan to do whatever is necessary to ensure that you aren’t wasting your time. The jeweler will be told an extra set is needed to guarantee the originals’ safety.”

Rembrant nodded. “It can be done. Tell me though, how am I to know if the gown should be delivered, barring an official announcement.”

“Dynan or I will inform you, but only if it isn’t to be delivered. You’ll know, I suspect, how this is going, as you’ll likely be back and forth to the Palace over the next few weeks.” He shook his head then. “I almost forgot. Dynan’s right shoulder and arm are in a brace, and he would like for that sleeve to be looser, if it’s possible.”

“I’ll see to it. I trust that you and he are the same size.”

Dain smiled. “Yes, though he’s slightly heavier than I am right now. I’m gaining on him though, so you might want to keep that in mind with our measurements. You can loosen the collars and cuffs on everything for me, and if there’s any way you can make these uniform collars less rigid, I’d be grateful. I have a number of new scars that don’t tolerate tight clothing well.”

“Yes. I’ve heard of your incarceration.” He shook his head. “He’s dead, isn’t he? Maralt Adaeryn?”

“Yes.”

“A blessing there.”

“More like a miracle,” Dain said.

“And our new Lord Chancellor defeated him?”

“Yes he did.”

“Then Cobalt owes him a debt of gratitude that won’t likely ever be repaid. All of Brittallia does.”

“I’ll tell him you said so, but if you ever see him, be sure to tell him yourself.”

“I will.”

Dain thanked him, saw to it that the gems were secured after taking a single sapphire and diamond, then bid him a good evening. The women were still in the fitting room, and Garan was outside playing with some other children under Gaden’s close eye.

Dain walked the long way around to the jeweler’s shop that was on the opposite side of the square with Allie and a troop of guards for company. Dain pulled his cloak around him to cut the deepening chill. “It hasn’t changed so much as I expected,” he said as they walked, acknowledging those they passed with a nod. The square was still abnormally crowded, but this time people kept their distance.

Allie nodded, eyeing a group of ladies they passed, not for pleasure’s sake, but security. Dain saw that all the guards carried themselves with the same cautious demeanor. He realized he wasn’t at all concerned about his own safety, and decided he liked the feeling. He glanced after the ladies, smiling back at them.

“Maybe I’ll just stay in town tonight,” he said, picking out one particular beauty who smiled in return.

“No.” Allie glanced at him and who he looked at. “No way, Dain. Not with Arlon perched up in his house just waiting for us to make that kind of mistake. No.”

“Arlon? He’s nothing. You think I couldn’t handle him?”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t. You rightly deserve the chance to try, except we have to wait until he and Alse are together. That doesn’t seem likely to happen today, and I’d just as soon keep it that way until we’re all back at the Palace.”

Dain laughed at him, seeing that he took him seriously. Allie shot him a glance and shook his head. He had the jeweler’s shop checked before allowing him inside, then stationed himself inside by the door.

The jeweler, a small portly man with little hair covering his head, was thrilled to have Dain in his shop, but quickly settled to business when he saw the betrothal gems. “These can’t be duplicated, Your Highness. I’m sorry, but this quality of stone doesn’t exist today.”

“I don’t want duplicates, just copies. Synthetics, glass, it doesn’t matter, though I think synthetics will be easier to manage in this case. As long as they look like the real thing.”

“If they’re examined by a jeweler though, they won’t pass as anything but copies.”

Dain shook his head again. “That isn’t something we’re concerned about. My brother questions the safety of the originals, and wants to ensure that we keep those in case of theft. How long will it take you to make them, keeping in mind that there are a hundred and five all told?”

“Two weeks.”

“We need them in three days.” The jeweler gasped a little at that, and started shaking his head. “We’ll be sure to make it worth your time.”

“Well, it won’t be easy, but I can put my other projects on hold to complete these.”

“What ever you need, you’ll get. There are thirty diamonds and seventy-five sapphires. You’ll deliver them to Dynan when you’re finished. I also want you to make a crest ring for my son. It needs to be small, but that can wait until you’re finished with the gems.”

The jeweler nodded absently. “Very well, Your Highness.”

Dynan’s thought reached him the next moment. “Dain. Marc wants you to come back. He’s—”

Allie jumped the next instant, turning sharply to look out into the square. “Arlon is moving.”

“Arlon is moving, Dain,” Dynan said, suddenly afraid.

“Is he now? Allie, get Garan in here. And see that everyone else is secure. Think he’s coming after me?”

“Dain, don’t. Please.”

“Oh relax. There are twenty guards between us and him. We’ll be fine.”

Allie opened the door. Dain saw that Gaden was already moving with his son toward the shops. “He’s coming in fast. Stay here.”

“Is there a problem, Your Highness?” the jeweler asked nervous at all the activity.

“Could be.”

The sudden sound of women screaming warned him, and as he looked out the window, he saw Gaden fall to the ground, a dagger protruding from his chest, dragging Garan down with him. Garan stared at him, his face twisted in terror, squirming to get away from him. At the same instant, five of the ten guards standing out by the jeweler’s shop dropped as well, and across the square four others met the same fate. The square had slowly been infiltrated while they had shopped at their leisure. The weapons were thrown daggers and crossbows of the same variety used eight years ago in a dark alley. The kind there was almost no protection from. Dain swore.

He wrenched open the door and stepped into the middle of a battle where the opponents outnumbered them three to one. “Marc, you need to notify the city guard.”

“Communications are down. We can’t.”

Dain swore again as a carriage transfer, a tall, box-like affair, swung into the square, and he saw Arlon Drayer, long lanky hair flowing from the wind. He leaned out, pointing the driver in Dain’s direction. He disappeared for a moment, but Dain saw other men across the square reacting to orders, hand signals he guessed, and they moved to converge on the clothier’s shop, while more headed toward him. Dain counted thirty, with only eleven Palace guards still standing.

Allie raced across the square and snatched Garan up, leaving his brother lying in the snow. He handed Garan off into the waiting arms of a Palace guard, who immediately retreated into another shop and relative safety. Allie turned as fifteen of Arlon’s men converged on him and the clothier’s shop.

“Your Highness, go back into the jeweler’s,” one of the nearest guards said to him before he had to turn and meet the onslaught.

Dain grabbed a different guard and hauled him back a step. “You, go get the city guard.”

He threw the man behind him, turning to meet his attacker and killed him. With just four guards with him, he faced fourteen. The guards with him, he discovered, were from the Exile base and their training showed. They formed a wedge with Dain at the point, keeping his back protected and the enemy from getting behind them. Fourteen assailants soon dropped to ten. Two more died at his feet. He saw Arlon heading for the clothier’s shop.

“Moving!” he called out and as a unit the guards attacked outward, surprising the enemy with their skill and cohesion. The moment they moved away from the wall though, three of the attackers moved around behind them, forcing the guards to turn. One guard was killed, leaving Dain with three.

Dain killed the man in front of him, and saw that Allie was in trouble. He was backed against the door of the clothier’s with only three guards to Arlon’s eight.

A sword flashed toward him, and Dain missed the defense. The blade pierced his left leg. The man died for the trouble, but another attacked him from behind. He turned and saw one guard still standing, and was struck again, this time along the ribs close to his heart.

A man, dressed in civilian clothes appeared at his side, followed by another. Having picked up fallen weapons, they joined him. Dain could tell in an instant that they weren’t trained and would only end up getting themselves killed.

“The Princess. Go!” one said to him, and when Dain looked at him sharply, he saw the man’s intent. He nodded, dropping another of their attackers before he turned, leaving one Palace guard and two foolish citizens of Rianamar to five.

Allie was alone and injured, standing against four while Arlon broke through the windows of the shop. Dain knew he had to stop him, but dreaded the reality of leaving Allie to fend for himself.

Six Palace guards raced into the square, a pace or two ahead of Dain. He pointed them to Allie. Arlon burst through the window into the clothier’s and Dain leapt after him, feeling a shiver of glass slicing across his face.

Arlon was ready for him, and attacked before Dain could defend himself. He turned, dodging at the last moment, and the blade entered his right shoulder instead of someplace more vital.

Anger kept him on his feet, but he knew he was weakening from the loss of blood. Arlon knew it too, lunging at him again. Dain slid past him, swords clashing together as he tried to put himself between Arlon and where he thought Shalis was hiding.

“You just don’t know when to die, do you?” Arlon sneered at him. “You and your brother will never survive, even if you survive the day. Your enemies are everywhere. Maralt saw to that. They will defeat you.”

“Yeah, I keep hearing that we’re all going to die. For seven years now. The last two from you...” Dain swept his sword around, the blade ringing as it struck, ”...every single day ... And yet, here I am.” He lunged at him, bringing his sword down as hard as he could. “You didn’t quite manage it, but today, Arlon, someone’s going to die today.”

Dain went at him and kept after him, hoping to kill him before the effects of blood loss slowed him too much, but Arlon was a skilled swordsman. Fighting in the close space of the clothier’s shop restricted movement enough to extend the battle too long. Arlon smiled and nodded at the blood dripping off Dain’s hand. “Somehow, I don’t think it’s going to be me, love.”

Dain lunged at him again, memories and anger exploding in his mind, but Arlon dodged aside and closed, striking with his fist into the wound along his side. Dain felt the air leave him, and staggered back. Arlon’s sword flashed toward him, piercing skin through the lower left abdomen and exited out his back.

Dain dropped his weapon and pushed him off, then sprang after him. He almost fell before he managed to grab him, knowing now that his only chance to save Shalis and himself, was to get back outside where he prayed the city guard would be waiting. He wanted to go out the way he’d come in, having already broken that window, but it was too far from him. He swung around, holding onto Arlon and aimed them toward another window, which unfortunately was still intact.

The impact shattered the glass and splintered the frame, the remains cutting into skin and clothing. The thought flashed through his mind that it was lucky he’d just ordered up a new uniform, and then he hit the ground.

Arlon slipped from his grasp, rolling as he clawed up to his feet, his sword still firmly in hand. Dain pushed himself up after him, but reared back sharply as a sword whipped by him, the weapon stopping Arlon’s from reaching him. A Palace guard stepped in front of him. Arlon turned and meant to run, but Ralion came in, cutting him off. Marc stood right beside him.

“It’s about damn time,” Dain said, looking around as a troop of city guardsmen rushed into the square, led by Palace guards who’d come in with Marc and Ralion. Somebody handed Dain his sword, and he turned back to Arlon, really hoping he’d attack again. Then he didn’t care if he attacked or not, and moved toward him. Here stood one of Maralt’s men, someone who had participated in his torture, and Dain meant to kill him.

“I need him alive. Dain, don’t.”

Arlon backed up a step, turning as another Palace guard cut off his escape and he attacked. Dain needed no more prompting. Arlon spun around to face him, but before he could attack, the guard rushed him from behind. Ralion went for his sword arm, and Marc pulled Dain back.

“I need him alive,” he said. “He won’t stay that way for long. He’s our only link to Alse.”

For a moment, Dain still didn’t care, trying to hold onto anger through a growing haze of pain. He knew Marc was right, and with Ralion and the guard effectively stopping Arlon from going anywhere, the window of opportunity closed. Arlon would survive, this time. Slowly, he lowered his weapon.

“He’s mine when you’re finished with him.”

“He’ll be judged in accordance to the law, Your Highness,” Marc said evenly, then smiled tightly. “You’re welcome to attend his execution.”

Dain didn’t want to settle for that, but as he leaned and caught his breath, decided it was better that way. An ideal he had to reacquaint himself with, following the laws of the land when for so many years there hadn’t been any. He pulled in another breath, and a sharp stab of pain raced up his side. “Where’s Garan?”

“He’s with a guard inside the Cobbler’s Shop,” Ralion answered, as he relinquished his hold on Arlon to another Palace guard.

Dain almost didn’t hear him, suddenly aware of a huddled group of people, guards, and civilians. Allie knelt on the ground beside his brother. “Gaden.”

“They think he’s going to be all right,” Marc said quickly, stopping him from going to them.

“They think?”

“You know doctors. They never say they’re sure about anything.”

“Doctor? What doctor? I don’t see any doctor.”

“There are medics on their way, but that kid who just stood up and is telling everyone else what to do is a physician from the city Medic Center.” Marc turned to the nearest guard, and Dain thought he looked familiar. “I need this area locked down, Lieutenant. No one comes in and no one goes out. Organize the men to go person to person. I want statements from everyone. Have all the shops searched, and get a body count on Arlon’s men. How many were there, Dain?”

“Thirty. Maybe one or two more.”

For a minute, Marc stared at him, then shook his head, turning back to the guard. “Princess Shalis is in the clothier’s shop in the right hand dressing room with her ladies. Send some men to bring them out. Have the transfer brought around. Go.”

Dain watched the guard turn, already issuing orders to other men, quickly delegating the tasks he’d been given, then seeing that those orders were carried out.

“Ralion, take Arlon back to the Palace under heavy guard, and see that he’s locked in detention, and Dain,” Marc turned to him, “tell your brother you’re all right. I’m going to talk to Allie.” He shot a glance at Ralion and got a nod before he walked off.

Dain had already told Dynan that he was all right and started to follow, but the pain in his leg and side, coupled with the loss of blood, made it difficult to see, much less move.

“You need to sit down,” Ralion said, moving to his side.

“I want to see Gaden.”

“Dain, look down.”

He did and wished he hadn’t. A line of red followed him, staining the snow beneath him. A steady trickle dripped off his fingers and he could feel more going down his side, his face, his leg, and down his back. Everything started to swirl around him.

Ralion quickly helped him over to a close bench, and eased him down onto it. Dain heard him calling for the doctor. Cool fingers touched his neck, and Loren’s face swam into view. He felt drunk, and a lightheaded whine rang in his ears. He saw Shalis and Bronwyn standing over him, and then he heard Garan’s voice.

“He’s all right,” Ralion said softly, pulling the boy back a step. Loren started unbuttoning his jacket, telling Bronwyn to rip up some cloth and he wasn’t sure what else.

He knew he didn’t want to collapse out here in the open. There were people everywhere, watching in concern and fear. He remembered telling them how great it felt to be back home and safe, and almost laughed. His eyes drifted across the square, taking in the number of dead, the number of men barely moving, staining the white carpet of snow with their blood. Finally, he found the two men who had come to his aid, crumpled in the middle of the square. A medic walked away from them, moving on to find someone to help.

A heavy cloak was draped around his shoulders as the doctor arrived, and Dain heard the beep of a biomonitor, still finding it hard to believe the boy who sat beside him calmly assessing his condition was a physician. “How old are you?” he asked, leaning away as he held up a dermal injector.

“I’m twenty-one, Your Highness.” The injector hissed as it touched his neck.

“Fresh out of Medical. Great.”

The young man nodded easily, administering more injections at each wound. “If it makes you feel any better, I tested third in my class out of two hundred, and I’m familiar with your medical history. I just gave you some cordalin and arrilgin for the bleeding. Can you take a deep breath?”

“No.”

“Your ribs are cracked.” He checked his monitor.

“Must have been the window.”

“We’ve got the bleeding under control for the moment. I need you to be still. Take short, easy breaths, and we’ll have you back up to the Palace soon. Are you in pain?”

Dain thought about that for a moment, realizing that he wasn’t, and shook his head. Slowly the dizziness passed, and the whine lowered to a level he could almost ignore.

“There’s no serious internal damage. Aside from some torn muscles, you should recover quickly, but you’ll be wise to spend the next few days in bed.” He turned to Ralion. “Call me if he worsens suddenly. I’m going to see about some of these others.”

Dain waited until the doctor was busy with someone else. Bronwyn was the only one paying attention to him when he leaned forward, tested his legs, and pushed himself up.

“What are you doing?” Bronwyn asked.

Shalis stopped her gently. “He needs to be seen, Bronwyn.”

Ralion stood with him and surprised Dain when all he did was shake his head before reaching to help him.

“Wouldn’t want anyone thinking I’m dead,” Dain said through gritted teeth. He was in pain now. “We don’t need that kind of scare going around.”

Gaden was being loaded into a medic transfer by the time Dain made it over to him. Allie remained, talking into his receiver. He favored his right side, but otherwise seemed in better shape than Dain expected. Marc was still busy giving orders and looking around.

Slowly, Dain joined Allie, who was listening to a string of commands for the com office. It seemed that Arlon had somehow sent a back channel command that shut down Palace communications, a fact that Allie was extremely angry about. Marc had gotten the re-sequence codes from Allie, relayed them back to Dynan who then had the system shut down and re-booted. From Allie’s terse comments, Dain guessed that a lot of damage had been done.

“Gaden all right?” he asked when he’d finished.

“He’s going to make it,” Allie said.

“Thanks for getting Garan out of harms way.”

Allie nodded, but Dain saw that he was angry. Marc too, and he knew why. They never should have come into town. If they’d woken Marc to tell him of their plans to do so, he would have stopped them.

“I’m sorry, Allie.”

Marc turned to him, shaking his head. “For all we know, Arlon was waiting for this opportunity. If not today, then tomorrow, and it would have been Dynan in the middle of this. I think that’s what Arlon was preparing for, but saw you as an easier target. His mistake.”

“It may still happen tomorrow,” Dain said, feeling a need to sit, but afraid if he did, he wouldn’t make it back up. Marc shook his head again.

“We’re taking precautions. I’ll go over them with you later.” He looked around suddenly, and Dain saw that the people who remained were gravitating toward the fountain, about a hundred strong. This time they were hesitant and quiet.

“You all right?” Dain asked.

Marc nodded, then smiled at him. “You’re standing here, Dain. I’m fine.”

He glanced around at the approaching faces, then nodded Ralion up onto the fountain ledge. Shalis followed him, looking pale, but calmly composed as she turned. Ralion and Marc both had to help Dain up but he got there, and after a minute, the wave of dizziness passed enough to let him speak.

They all looked so frightened, fearful of what they had just witnessed, and stunned into silence. “Well, that was exciting, now wasn’t it?” He smiled at the nervous titter than ran through them, then sobered. “We still have enemies. Cowards that they are, they attack innocent people to get to us. How many of you heard that I died two years ago? All of you? They weren’t successful then, they weren’t successful today, and they won’t be successful tomorrow. Go home. Tell everyone you know what you’ve seen and heard today. Tell them that we’re alive, and we aren’t going to hide any longer. Dynan Telaerin will be crowned King of this system. I’ll be standing with him. Shalis will be standing with him. You’ll be standing with him too. Together, we will take back this city, and if need be the entire system, region by bloody region until Cobalt is again the land of peace that I remember it being. Tell them that we’re not going to stop until the violence you witnessed here in the very heart of our city is extinguished. Go home. Tell them what you’ve heard.”

He didn’t expect any cheering, but a slow murmuring approval moved through them, that grew. Heads nodded, and a few called out, starting others, a tenor of defiance in their voices.

“Nice speech,” Marc said, helping him down again.

“Get the transfer.”

“It’s right here, Dain. I’m staying. I want to check the Governor’s Hall and a few other things. Tell Dynan I’ll be back in time for dinner.”

Dain grabbed him by the arm. “Just remember you’re a likely target too. I know you can take care of yourself, but your first instinct should be to rely on the guards, and not other methods for protection. Don’t take any chances.”

“I won’t,” Marc said, plainly incredulous over Dain talking about taking chances. He smiled though, patting the door when it closed behind him.

“I suppose you’re going to want to walk into the Palace too?” Shalis asked Dain as he carefully sat. He didn’t bother answering, leaning back into the cushions instead. He closed his eyes and felt like sleeping.

“Is he bleeding again?” Loren asked, moving to look at his wounds. He heard the sound of fabric ripping and felt it as Loren pressed her hand against his side. “We should have made that doctor come with us, or at least a medic. I need more. I’m going to wrap this around you Dain. No, be still, or you won’t be walking anywhere. There, is that better? No, one more. Thank you Bronwyn.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been bandaged up with silk before,” Dain whispered while Loren reached her arm around him to tie on the last bandage. “Now I know why Dynan likes having you around.”

“Shhh. Don’t try to talk. We’ll be home soon.”

“Home?” he muttered. “I don’t want to go home, Dynan. I want to go out and play.”

“Dain?” His brother’s voice reached him through a mist, clinging and dragging him down. “I’m right here, Dain.”

He peeled his eyes open and found they were home and Dynan was leaning over him. “That was fast.”

Geneal moved next to him, replacing Loren, and started giving him more injections. “Are the rest of you all right?” she asked.

“Yes. They never got near us,” Loren said, smiling at Dynan.

“Is Marc ever going to talk to me again?” Dynan asked.

“He’s not too pleased you let us go into town,” Dain said in a whisper. “But he’s happy he caught Arlon, so I think he’ll forgive us. He better. He’s not the one who was down there getting stuck like a damn pincushion. That hurts, Geneal.”

“Don’t be such a baby. Feel like you can walk? I’ll get a carrier if you want.”

Dain growled at her, but allowed himself to be helped out of the bobbing transfer. Shalis took one side, while Dynan pulled his arm across his shoulder. Dain stared up at the number of steps before him.

“Maybe you should both take a carrier,” Geneal said.

“Can I ride the carrier, Papa?”

“We’re not getting a carrier.”

“Stubborn,” Geneal said and started up without them.

“It runs in the family,” Loren said. The three of them turned to look at her and she smiled. “Well it does. Just ask the guards who were with us at the clothier’s.”

“What are you talking about?” Dynan asked and started up the stairs.

“I’ll discuss it with you later,” Shalis said, frowning at Loren.

“I can’t wait.”

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