Chapter 56

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Ambrose reached to help his son out of the carriage when it stopped at the foot of the Palace steps, but Dynan refused. Or maybe it wasn’t so much a refusal as a lack of awareness of the offer. He wasn’t there. His eyes were open, but stared at nothing. Every so often, he would blink, and his gaze would focus on something or someone. That was most often Loren, who hadn’t taken her eyes off him the entire trip through town. Those moments of awareness all but ceased the closer they got to the Palace. Ambrose didn’t know what kept Dynan on his feet. No one else who had gone back into the room of the orbs after Marc could move without assistance. The others had to be taken in on medic carriers. Dain leaned heavily on his guard.

The newest member of the family—Ambrose shook his head over that one—stood at the foot of the stairs, looking up at the home he hadn’t seen in nearly seven years. Or maybe Dain Ardin was just looking at the number of stairs he had to climb to get inside. Stark weariness marred his face. Ambrose wanted to pull him into his arms, make it all go away, and knew he couldn’t. As Loren had so pointedly reminded him, they weren’t boys any more, but men. Still so young to have endured what they had. They weren’t the children that Ambrose had brought into the world. That job was done. He smiled for a moment and thought how proud their mother would be right now.

Ambrose moved to Dain Ardin’s side, looking up the stairs with him. His son started shaking his head. “I kept telling them I wanted to go home and they wouldn’t let me. Now that I’m here, I’m not so sure I want to go in.”

“Considering what’s been going on, that’s understandable. I felt the same way when Marc brought me back. I don’t really belong here, except it has always been my home. It feels very strange, but completely comfortable at the same time.”

Dain Ardin nodded and took the first step up. “It’s not at all what I expected. Not that I ever expected anything like this. I mean, I feel like the same person who grew up here, but I’m not. I have the same memories, had the same life until a couple of months ago and now it’s as if I’m suddenly not that person any more. He’s already here. Been here.” He nodded to his other half as a guard helped him up the stairs.

“Now we know what the divided means.”

“The stupidest thing I ever did in my life.”

“Or quite possibly the smartest. Maralt would have won by now had he kept all of you, and you wouldn’t be here to say these things. Your judgment, at the moment, is a little clouded by exhaustion. Let’s get you inside, cleaned up and into bed.”

“Who does that leave in charge?” Dain Ardin asked, glancing at Ambrose. “No one, right?”

“Apparently. Come on, up you go.”

Ambrose pulled his arm across his shoulders and started up the stair. It took a long time, and he thought it would be better if his son got on a carrier, but Ambrose knew he would refuse. All of them had. He smiled at their stubbornness. They reached the top and the doors were opened for them. Everyone else was already in and heading for the Royal quarters.

“I think you should do it,” Dain Ardin said as they walked in, and he looked to the King’s office. Ambrose started shaking his head.

“No. Not under these circumstances. I just told the Governors that I wouldn’t take the crown. That message would be negated were I to take charge here, Dain. No.”

“Well then I guess I can’t go to bed then, can I?” He got a look on his face then, one that Ambrose had seen before. “Or can I? Seems that I already am in charge, right?”

“While Dynan and Dain, the other one, are recovering, that would mean you’re next. Followed by Garan, and then Shalis. We can leave her in charge.”

“No.” Dain Ardin shook his head, and he smiled. “I can make it an order if I have to.”

Ambrose blinked at him and saw that he was right. “Dain—”

“I think I’ve been waiting all my life to be able to do this to you.” He laughed then, and Ambrose knew it was pointless to argue with him. “Just until Dynan wakes up. Nothing official. You’re just standing in until we’re all back on our feet. You’ve done it before. You’re the only logical choice. Think of—”

“All right,” Ambrose said, though he had grave reservations that he should agree to it. “I’ll do it until you wake, or your brothers do. Nothing official.”

Dain Ardin nodded, and weariness came in, making him sway where he stood. Ambrose motioned to the nearest medic, who brought over a carrier. “No, I don’t—”

“I can make that an order if you like,” Ambrose said and smiled at him, then helped him onto the floating bed. He didn’t have the strength to resist. His eyes dragged closed and the next instant he was unconscious.

Ambrose followed the carrier up to Dain’s suite of rooms that hadn’t been occupied since Logue’s attack, saw that Dain Ardin was put to bed and all his wounds tended. He checked on Dain next, who was in Dynan’s rooms. Bronwyn was with him, looking pale and worried while she helped get him settled. Dain was cut up, scraped and bruised like the others. The medics with him were concerned he’d have a permanent limp. There was something in his face, etched into his features, that spoke of terror.

Last, he went to Dynan, just down the hall from his brother. Ambrose was almost afraid to find out what had happened to him. Geneal Elger was there, shaking her head while she examined him. They hadn’t moved him into bed yet, leaving him on the carrier. Geneal bent over his right hand, carefully cleaning burned skin.

“Do you know how this was done?” she asked, gesturing to the black marks that scoured both hands. Ambrose shook his head. “He may not ever regain full use them, or his hearing. His shoulder is fine, for a change. His heart is all right. You know he was so close to dying. I still don’t understand how he survived.”

“How long before he wakes?”

“Two days probably,” she said and smiled. “Are you in charge of this catastrophe now, Your Majesty?” She shook her head at that, moving to Dynan’s other side.

“I’ll be available to assist where ever needed,” Ambrose said.

“I helped my father perform your autopsy,” she said and looked at him for a moment. She shook her head again. Ambrose imagined that for a doctor, his presence was even more difficult to accept. “Nothing makes any sense any more.”

“But it will again someday. Soon, I should think. Let me know how he is.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

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Evil bides its time, ever waiting to breach the thin veil. Action and reaction join to swing the pendulum toward anarchy and destruction. Chaos reigns. The Demon lurks in the dark recesses.

The possibility exists that it can’t be destroyed. Evil will endure. It can’t be taken, cured, or overcome. Night will cover the world no matter what. Faith may not be enough. Love may not survive.

Amidst deception, temptation and fear, the last choice is made, the ultimate sacrifice taken. Father bequeaths unto son. Natural order must be restored. Those who are chosen to die may live, while those who are chosen to live may not make it through.

The fate of the universe, of a kingdom, of a family ... of one man is decided. The final battle is at hand.

King is the Eighth Chronicle of the Guardians of the Word series.