Chapter 11 #2
“And Arven.” Petur stopped him as he began to walk away. “I’m proud of you,” he said, and his nephew smiled brightly. “Truly proud. You saved your own life against a hidden opponent with a spelled weapon. That’s truly impressive.”
“Thank you, Uncle Petur.” His back was a bit straighter as he returned to the table. A moment later, it was Deyvid who was leaving the girls behind, to a chorus of despair.
“I don’t like that look on your face,” Petur murmured as soon as Deyvid got within hearing range. The facade of simple pleasure Deyvid had put on for the children had fallen away, and he’d gone stone-faced in a manner that meant he was about to be dead serious with Petur. “What is it?”
He drew in so close that his lips brushed against Petur’s earlobe. Any other time, Petur would have turned in and kissed him, made this into something more. But now … “I actually believe it could have been a Harrier behind this,” Deyvid whispered in his ear.
“Why do you say that?” Petur replied just as softly.
“There are mages out there who are trained killers, who for the right price, or at the behest of a strong power, could have been sent here to attack Arven. We’ve done what we can to defend against this, but the palace isn’t impenetrable.
They would almost certainly have tried to kill him with a spell, though.
The less noticeable, the better. Instead, a crossbow?
” He shook his head. “Paying a mage to fire a crossbow at someone is like paying a baker to add sand to his flour. You’ll get something marginally acceptable from it, but it’s not going to be good. ”
“What a poet you are,” Petur muttered.
Deyvid punched his shoulder.
“Ow!”
“I’m being serious,” Deyvid said. “This attempt wasn’t a truly serious one. I’d warrant it was meant to muddy the waters and sow discord amongst the royal family, and if it is a Harrier tribe who put that mage up to this, that merits investigation. We should—”
“We don’t say anything,” Petur snapped. “Don’t put this bug in my sister’s ear. Not until we have more proof.”
“I’m not going to need to put this bug in her ear,” Deyvid said, soft and a little sad. “It’s what Jemal is thinking, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” Petur muttered reluctantly. “It is, but Tania already hates Harriers. She’ll latch onto this with a fury that sends every other possibility out of her head, including the most obvious one, that it’s someone who wants to put a stop to Arven’s marriage with Kira.
She won’t want to blame Mersaighe and put the alliance in jeopardy. ”
“Perhaps,” Deyvid agreed. “I’m just saying that you and I, at least, need to keep an open mind when it comes to who might be behind this.”
“Why do I have to keep an open mind if she’s not going to?” Petur pouted.
Deyvid cracked a smile. “You sound like Givencie.”
“I do not.”
“You do. You sound like a child. I say that with love, but—”
“Shut up. I say that with love too,” Petur replied.
He wiped a hand down his face, heaved a sigh, then said, “All right. I need to see this weapon, I need to see the location of the attack, and I need to interview the guards myself. Let’s see what we can come up with that will keep my sister from losing her mind the moment she gets back. ”
***
Unfortunately, there was nothing Petur could do to keep Tania from losing her mind upon her return. Her relief for her son contrasted sharply with her absolute fury over the fact that Petur and Deyvid had been away from the palace when the attack happened.
“You shouldn’t have been gone,” she shouted, her voice ringing off the stones as she repeated her accusation for—Petur was counting—the fifth time. “You should have been here! It’s your duty to be here, protecting my children and my husband at all costs. You had no right to leave!”
“I had permission,” Petur reminded her, also for the fifth time. “You gave it to me yourself.”
“Well, I am revoking all such permissions,” she said, pacing over to him.
The sweep of her skirts against the marble floor rustled like dry leaves.
Her hands were clenched into fists, and Petur was a bit surprised she hadn’t given in to the impulse to hit him yet.
“Do you understand me? You are not stepping foot outside of this palace for the foreseeable future.
You are going to keep both your eyes and all your senses on my children at all times, especially on Arven.
“In fact!” She whirled around to look at her son, who seemed supremely uncomfortable. “In fact—no, you’re not going to stay in the palace. You’re going to sea.”
Arven’s jaw dropped. “What? No!” he exclaimed. He looked at his father as though he couldn’t quite believe it. “Are you going to let her do this to me?”
“He doesn’t have the final say, does he?
” Tania snarled at her son. “I do. I am your mother. I am the queen. I know what’s best for you, and I have the final say of what happens in my own home.
You’re going to sea. You’re going to get on the sloop with a contingent of your most loyal guards, and you’re going to stay at sea for the foreseeable future. Possibly until your marriage.”
“Until my marriage?” Arven’s voice cracked. “That’s not for two years. You can’t … Mother, you can’t be serious.”
“Oh, I am serious,” she said. Her voice was so low and sibilant it sounded like a hiss.
“I am deadly serious, and if you think about defying me, I will make you regret it. I will make everyone in this room regret it. Do you understand me? Now where is he?” She whirled back to Petur.
“Where is that Harrier spy you’re sleeping with?
Have you interrogated him about this yet?
” Her voice dropped to a hiss. “Perhaps he used his clever mind to plot something like this for when you two were away. Perhaps he meant it to take the pressure off himself, to cast him as innocent. Well, I don’t believe it. ”
Petur’s hands were clenched so hard that he could barely feel his fingertips. “Leave Deyvid out of this,” he said coldly. “He had nothing to do with the attack on Arven.”
“He might be the one who told the assassin where to find my son in the first place,” Tania countered. “Who would know better about skulking around our palace than a professional assassin? I should have kicked him out years ago. I should have—”
“Sister, stop these baseless accusations,” Petur interjected.
“No, I will not! I’ve warned you over and over to keep that bastard under control, and this is what I come home to?
This? My house in shambles? My family in disarray?
And him without the courage to face me himself?
Instead, he let you send him away to investigate in the city during my arrival?
” She shook her head wildly. “No, I won’t have it.
I won’t have it. It’s time for heads to roll, and I’m starting with his. I demand—”
“Mother.” Arven stepped forward, his voice placating. “Mother, please. You’re not thinking right.”
“How dare you—”
“I’ll go,” Arven continued, and now it was Petur’s turn for his jaw to drop.
“I’ll go, all right? I won’t put up a fuss about it.
I’ll go on the sloop. I’ll stay away as long as you need me to.
” He swallowed hard. “Even if it takes a year or more. But Mother, please, you can’t blame Deyvid for this.
He’s had so many opportunities to hurt us, and he’s never taken a single one.
He’s been part of our family for years. He saved my life once already. ”
“He’s not part of this family,” Tania snapped, but some of the fire had gone out of her stance.
“He’s as good as an uncle to me,” Arven said, tilting his head in such a way that even though he was taller than his mother, it made him seem smaller, more deferential.
“He taught me to throw a knife and how to speak his language. We’ve been alone so many times before.
For him to wait for such a random opportunity?
Mother, it doesn’t make sense. Please.” He pulled her hands close. “Don’t blame him.”
There was a long moment of silence, and then …
“Fine.” All of a sudden, Petur could breathe again.
“Fine. Perhaps you’re right although that’s more consideration than he deserves.
” She kept hold of her son’s hands as she turned to face Petur.
“But as long as he’s out hunting for the assassin, let him make a fulsome journey of it.
If I see Deyvid back in the palace before the Harvest Feast, I will assume he’s not taking his responsibility to investigate this seriously, and I will have him removed. Permanently.”
“That’s three months away,” Petur said, aghast.
“Then he’ll have plenty of time for the trip north, won’t he?” Tania replied. “Go tell him now but return before the sun is down, brother. You are now your nephew’s bodyguard until he’s at sea, and I insist you take that role seriously.”
Petur couldn’t bring himself to bow, but he did manage to incline his head before turning on his heel and marching out of the audience chamber. His sister had never before angered him so deeply in all their years together.
I want to leave the palace. I want to leave it all.
Never before had Petur felt the urge to abandon his position so strongly. Oh, he’d flirted with the idea in the past, idly considering what his life might be like if he weren’t so beholden to the crown. But before, it had been nothing but the odd thought here and there.
Now, though? For the first time, Petur contemplated whether doing his duty was worth the price he paid for it.
To be treated so carelessly by Tania … to have his relationship of eight years disregarded so easily …
to have to be saved by his nephew. It was embarrassing.
It was humiliating. It was lessening, and it hurt his soul.
He didn’t have to go far to find Deyvid, fortunately. The man was in their room in the barracks, and when Petur opened the door, he wasn’t surprised to find Deyvid already packing.
“Word travels fast,” Petur said, forcing himself into a level tone.
“Particularly when the volume is so loud,” Deyvid said, a soft and understanding expression on his face. “Lise couldn’t help but overhear, so she came to warn me. I was planning to go to the border anyway, darling.”
The endearment broke Petur out of his shell of indifference. He sighed, walked over to Deyvid, and pulled him into the embrace he’d wanted to hold him in earlier. “She wanted to say it was your fault. She was going to pin all of this on you. Arven stopped her, but—”
“We’ve always known your sister doesn’t like me. It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine,” Petur snarled. It was hard to speak around the fangs that threatened to erupt from his gums. “None of this is fine. She shouldn’t get to be the arbiter of anything concerning us.”
“I know.” Deyvid kissed him tenderly, and the fangs retracted. “I know. I’m sorry. I don’t want to leave you, but I do think this is worthy of investigation. I’ll do my best.”
Petur gazed into Deyvid’s pale eyes. It was amazing how much meaning could be found in there, even in the absence of color. “You always do,” he whispered. “You always, always do. I’m sorry, though, that you’re not extended any grace for your efforts.”
“You’re all the grace I need,” Deyvid assured him. “You’ve always been all I need.” They kissed again softly, once, twice. “I’ll send letters,” he promised. “At every outpost I can find. It’ll be all right. I promise.”
Petur wasn’t inclined to believe him, not when he felt so miserable, but he knew Deyvid was trying his best. The least he could do was respond in kind.
“I’ll wait with bated breath, of course,” he said, pulling a smirk.
“I’ll cast my eyes to the sky every day and pray to the Triad that I get a love note from you.
I’ll be woeful and woebegone every second I haven’t heard from you. I’ll be—”
“Dramatic,” Deyvid said with a little laugh, “as usual. Good thing I love it.”
“Good thing I love you,” Petur replied. “Be safe.”
“You too.”