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“I am afraid he is dying.” Jowan the Archpriest of the Temple of the Seven, shook his head as he turned away from King Allar. His face betrayed no emotion, but his eyes were troubled. “I am truly sorry, Your Majesty.”
Larris put his arm around Queen Arissa’s shoulders, but his comfort was not needed, at least, not at the moment. Queen Arissa maintained a calm exterior and her face was a mask of determination.
“What ails him, exactly?” Her voice held a hint of challenge.
The priest shrugged. “Age. His body grows tired and is no longer operating as it should.”
“Age,” Arissa repeated. “His Majesty is barely fifty summers. He is hardly an old man.”
“Some men decline faster than others. Ruling takes its toll on a man, as does, believe it or not, spending too much of one’s time sitting on a throne or at table.”
“My father was a great soldier in his day.” Larris clenched his fists, struggling to match his mother’s calm. “He fought the Kyrinians more times than I can count.”
Jowan raised a liver-spotted hand. “Please understand, it is not my desire to diminish your father’s achievements, Highness. I only point out that it has been a long time since he spent his days in the saddle, and a few more since he found himself on the front lines. I sincerely regret that I can do no more than prescribe a restorative draught.”
“But it won’t return him to health?” Arissa asked.
“No. It will strengthen him and perhaps prolong his life.” The priest opened his bag and withdrew a stoppered vial of viscous amber liquid.
“I’ll see to it that he gets it.” Larris snatched the vial away from the priest with unnecessary force, but right now, he didn’t care what the priest thought of him. “How much of it and how often?”
“One spoonful in the morning and another in the evening.” The priest looked back at the king, who lay sleeping, and winced. “I should give him the first dose just to see how he reacts.”
“It’s a general restorative. There should be no reaction.” Larris took the man by the arm and steered him toward the door. “I’ll send for you if there is a problem. Thank you for your time and attention.”
Allyn waited outside, along with two guards. Larris set his friend the task of escorting the priest back to the temple and closed the door.
“That was discourteous of you,” Arissa said though her tone was one of curiosity rather than disapproval.
“I don’t trust him, or anyone else from the temple, for that matter.” He hurried on, forestalling her argument. “Mother, I promise I have my reasons, but I can’t share them right now. I only ask that you trust me.”
“When will you tell me?”
“As soon as I can. I give you my word.” He moved to the window seat, settled onto the thick cushions, and looked out across the city.
Arissa took a seat beside the king’s bed, took Allar’s hand in both of hers, and kissed his knuckles. “I assume you’ve had no word about your brother?”
“Not yet, but I have people searching for him.”
“What shall we do if your father passes before Lerryn returns? We have no proof that he abdicated, so you cannot take the throne.” She sighed. “We can’t keep the severity of your father’s illness a secret for much longer, and this is not the time to be without strong leadership. The war with Kyrin, the rebellion in Kurnsbur, the goings-on in Lothan...”
“And the coming Frostmarch,” Larris added. His mother did not reply. She still refused to believe such a thing was possible, but her self-delusions would not change the reality of the situation. “There is one possibility we have not considered.” He took a deep breath. Arissa would not like this suggestion. “If Lerryn died in battle, the succession issue would be solved.”
“You said his body was never found.”
“That is true.” He’d received a message from Hierm confirming there had been a battle in Galsbur, won at great cost by the Galdorans. All but one of the White Fang, Lerryn’s elite cavalry unity, had died in the battle, and all of the bodies had been recovered. Lerryn’s body, however, was missing, and the locals believed he had survived. “But no one else knows that. If I send men to Galsbur and they return with a coffin, who’s to say it’s not Lerryn inside? We could say the body is in no condition for him to lie in state. We announce his passing, spread the story of his heroic death, hold a state funeral, and no one will be the wiser.”
“Until he does return, and then what?” Arissa asked, her voice now trembling with anger.
“He won’t return. At least, not in a public way. He made it clear that he does not consider himself fit to rule.”
“I won’t hear of it.” Arissa rose from her chair. “If you dare spread such lies, I will publicly denounce you.”
“Mother, you said it yourself. We must have strong leadership.”
“And how secure would your seat on the throne be once the truth comes out? We can make any announcement we like, but there are people in Galdora who know the truth. Sooner or later, the story will make its way back here, assuming it hasn’t already. The closed casket would only fuel the rumors.”
Larris wanted to argue, but he saw the wisdom in her words. He nodded his grudging acceptance.
“Your uncle can serve as regent until the problem is settled.”
Larris was on his feet in a flash. “No. Orman is needed in the field. He says this latest batch of troops is almost ready though the gods only know what has taken him so long to train them. I can rule as Prince Regent for the time being. I’m going to be king anyway.”
“You have not yet earned the respect of the court. The memory of your disappearance is still fresh in too many minds, and that is the only thing most people at court know about you. And the Regis does not yet trust you.” The Regis was the small council that advised the king.
Arissa closed the distance between them, put her hands on his shoulders, and drew him close. “Remain strong. We will find our way.”
“I will.” He gently broke off the embrace. “I think I should be the one to hold court today. As you point out, I need to change the way the nobility think of me. Not being a soldier, I can’t earn their respect on the field of battle so I will have to do it another way.”
Arissa gave him a long, speculative look, and finally nodded. “I think that is an excellent idea. Will you want me there to keep you from making a mess of things?” She managed a half-smile.
“Yes. Let me take the lead, and if you feel I’m headed in the wrong direction, take out your kerchief and dab at your brow. How does that sound?”
Now his mother did smile. “You are already thinking like a leader.”
“I’ll be there in an hour. There are some things I need to take care of first.” He kissed his mother on the forehead, gave his father’s hand a squeeze, and headed for his private quarters.
“Nothing to report, I’m afraid.” Allyn whirled the blood red wine around in his glass but did not drink. “The priest had no interest in conversing with someone as lowly as me and certainly didn’t invite me into the temple for a chat.”
“If you’d let me grant you a title, you’d receive better treatment. I could marry you into a noble house and everything.” Larris took a sip of wine and enjoyed the outraged expression on his friend’s face.
“You know I don’t want that. At least, not in the near future.” A sly smile creased his face. “Speaking of marriage, I know someone who needs to find a nice young woman and produce an heir. Surely your mother has mentioned it.”
“She has.” Larris had now lost interest in his wine. There was only one woman he had any interest in marrying, and she was not a royal. At least, not yet. “I’m putting her off for now.”
“Marrying a Diyonan might motivate them to help us crush the rebellion in Kurnsbur.”
“Or I could marry a Halvalan or Cardithian in hopes they would intervene in the Kyrinian war.” He lowered his gaze to his abandoned glass of wine. The red liquid reminded him of all the blood that would be spilled before the conflicts came to an end, especially if there were another Frostmarch.
“I know what you’re thinking and you know it cannot be.” Allyn’s voice was surprisingly gentle. “You will sit the Galdoran throne, and Shanis will rule Lothan. It is not a match. If Lerryn had not abdicated, it would be a different story.”
“I don’t care to discuss it right now. We have too much to attend to at the moment, and I have to be in court shortly.” Rising from his chair, he fished the bottle of restorative from a pocket inside his cloak. “Do you know of a reliable herb woman here in the city?”
“No, but I can doubtless find you a few in short order.”
“Splendid. Find two of the best and have each of them examine my father separately. I don’t need to tell you, it must be done in secret.”
“Of course. I’ll dress them as chambermaids. What is in the flask?”
“This is the restorative the priest wants to be given to my father. Have it tested for poison.” He handed the bottle to Allyn.
Allyn eyed the flask as if it were a coiled serpent. “Do you honestly think they would be so foolish as to put the evidence of their deceit directly in your hands?”
“They killed Melina. I don’t know if they conspired with her, or simply wanted to guarantee her silence about something she’d discovered, but right now, there’s nothing I wouldn’t put past them.”