Valam saw Adrina enter with Myrial and the young guardsman, Garette Timmer. His heart beat faster and faster as he took a few quick steps toward her. His hands were raised as they met. “This isn’t what you’re thinking,” he said matter of factly, “The city has been ordered sealed. The garrison and palace are on full alert. The king’s decree.”
“Father?” Adrina asked, “He’s…”
“Of a mind to tell Lady Isador Froen d’Ga to return to Imtal.”
Adrina turned, looked at the speaker. She smiled, found herself at a loss for words. Her father, King Andrew Alder, sat at a long table with Father Jacob and Keeper Martin. Across from him sat high-ranking palace and garrison commanders.
“Now then,” King Andrew said turning back to the commanders, “the heir to the throne and my daughter stand before you. There is no foul play.”
“The messenger,” protested Chancellor Volnej. “He is without question a man of honor.”
King Andrew stood. His eyes seemed to catch the last of the sunlight streaming through the window as he spoke. “And yet my children stand before you. There’s been no kidnapping, no murder, no attempt.” His eyes had been fixed on the commanders, but now he turned and looked directly at the chancellor who stood at the far end of the table. “You are dismissed. Return to Council Hall, bring this message—those responsible for this folly will be dealt with. Judgment will be swift; retribution, final.”
To Valam and other onlookers it was hard to tell whether the old chancellor collapsed or bowed so deeply that he got himself into a position that age simply wouldn’t allow him to recover from. Either way, he had to be physically escorted out of the hall.
King Andrew turned to Adrina then. “My daughter, light of my life, listen carefully and speak truly. Has anyone made an attempt on your life or the life of your brother this day?”
Adrina didn’t turn away from his piercing gaze. She answered directly and without hesitation. “No father. Who would say such a thing? I’ve been with Housemistress Myrial discussing matters of household, and to the market.”
“Who indeed?” said the King, turning back to the commanders. “We must end this. The rabble rousers must be shown their place. We will have no more discord, no more dissent in council.” A jeweled sword lay on the table in its sheath. He picked it up, drew the sword and raised it high, purposefully, so that the fine steel blade could catch the last of the sun’s rays.
Valam knew what the sword signified. Commanders were warriors at heart, and warriors understood strength. The king wasn’t as old and weak as the whispers. He could still wield the sovereign blade, play it in the air as if it were a toy.
But then the king did something that surprised everyone. In one swift motion, he lunged across the table and drove the blade into the chest of the man across from him. The blade easily sliced through the man’s breastplate, finding his heart. Before he could draw a breath or scream, the man lay dead atop the king’s blade.
Captain Imson Adylton who had been sitting to the left of the dead man, gulped at the air as if he were a fish out of water. Only the fact that he was the king’s staunchest supporter brought quick words to his lips. He said, his voice a whisper at first, “For king and country… For king and country!”
Others joined the chant. Some hastily, others reluctantly.
As Valam watched there was a clear shift in the room. Some of the commanders who moments before had been haughty and arrogant now found themselves at a loss. Others who were loyal supporters of the king clearly felt vindicated. King Andrew wasn’t weak. The reign of his line wasn’t at an end.
The whispers were baseless. The king, who stood before them wielding a sword, slaying the chief whisperer, wasn’t weak. He was strong and true, unafraid to confront those who were afraid to confront him. His justice was as true as his sword arm.
Valam and Imson pulled Captain Atford from the table, dumped him on the floor near the exit doors. As Valam passed Adrina on the return, he squeezed her arm, whispered, “Be strong, if ever, now.”
Adrina took a deep breath, checked her demeanor, whispered to herself, “Be strong, if ever, now.”
King Andrew pounded his fists on the table. “Let the word go forth from this hall with your own lips. The House of Alder stands. All who oppose it will find death at the hands of a just king.”
It was a dismissal. The commanders knew it. They fled the room as though their feet had wings. Only Imson Adylton lingered. He had been there in Quashan’. He understood the treachery that had been at hand then and he understood what was happening now. He put a hand on Valam’s shoulder, spoke clearly, “There is nothing you can’t ask of me. Ask and it shall be done so long as I live and breathe.”