Chapter 3
Lanterns burned all along the walls of the courtyard when Wreylith landed near the weapons platform and Syla slid off her back.
Among the usual soldiers that guarded the castle from the towers, gatehouse, and walls, Sergeant Fel stood in the area, and he strode toward her with a scowl that could have withered the wings off a wyvern.
Given his six-and-a-half-feet in height, broad shoulders, scars, and muscles that men half his age would have envied, he was an intimidating figure.
“Good evening, Sergeant,” Syla hurried to say before he could lecture her on departing without a bodyguard—and the entourage of troops he’d said a queen should have to defend her.
“Is Aunt Tibby around? Have she and my cousin Teyla made any progress in figuring out how to make the weapons platform operable to more people than me? One would think that anyone with a moon-mark should be able to use it to defend the castle.”
Since Syla had only been gone an hour, she doubted her aunt and cousin had figured out anything, but she’d learned long ago that tirades could sometimes be diverted by a tangent or three.
Usually, she’d employed that tactic in the temple, hoping to distract patients from their discomfort until she could fully heal them, but she’d also had opportunities of late to practice on the military officers who hadn’t wanted to see her return from her last mission.
She still didn’t know if General Dolok had been the one to send the Royal Fleet—and handpicked assassins—after her or if that had been someone else’s scheme.
He, of course, denied it, and, without proof, she hadn’t attempted to remove him from his position.
Not yet. Once she got a shield back in place around Harvest Island, she would deal with internal affairs—like ferreting out all the people who wanted her dead so they could have the throne.
“Your aunt called me a troglodyte three times, then grumbled under her breath as she took your cousin to the library to search for more reference materials.” Fel waved to the weapons platform resting atop cracked flagstones in the center of the courtyard—the place where the dragons had dropped it.
Looking somewhat like a giant marble four-poster bed with a canopy on top, it was a strange adornment for the royal castle, but it had proven capable of harming dragons, so Syla would never object to its presence.
“She did not seem enlightened,” he added.
“It doesn’t sound like it, no. As I recall, the runes carved into it roughly translate to: one blessed by the gods and sworn to protect her people might call upon its power. Others with similar intent and a moon-mark should be able to operate it.”
“From what I gathered, she’s irritated that she hasn’t been able to do so.”
“Is that why she insulted you? Misdirected frustration?”
“She insulted me because I was distracting her by stalking around the courtyard, thumping my fist against walls in irritation because the charge I’m sworn to protect took off on a dragon without me.”
“That was rude of that charge.”
“Yes.” There was the scowl again. “While you were gone, Colonel Mosworth came by looking for you and suggested that a bodyguard who can’t keep up with his charge should retire.”
Syla grimaced, even though she knew Fel, who neared sixty, wanted to retire.
He’d served twenty years in the military and then another twenty years as a bodyguard for the royal family.
He deserved to retire, and he’d been on the verge of it when the stormers had invaded.
But he was also one of her few trustworthy allies.
“Colonel Mosworth might replace you with someone who has orders to assassinate me at the first opportunity,” she said, though he, like General Dolok, had been polite since her return with Wreylith. Polite, respectful, and even obedient. She didn’t trust either of them.
Fel chewed on the statement for a moment.
Since she’d spent the last ten years of her life serving in the temple and only occasionally visiting the castle and never attending meetings with the military officers, Fel probably knew far better than she the various senior officers and their tendencies.
She waited to hear what he would say. She wished it would be that Mosworth was loyal to the crown, not individuals, and she could count on him.
“I don’t mistrust him specifically,” Fel said, “but you’re wise to be wary of the military in general right now.”
“That’s what I thought.”
“And unwise to leave without a bodyguard.”
“I had a dragon.”
“A dragon isn’t dependable. And other dragons chased you back here.” Fel pointed skyward to indicate he’d seen the skirmish. “What were you doing?”
“A brief survey of Harvest Island. I’m trying to figure out the best way to get it back.
Do you think I should focus on trying to reclaim the magical components to repair its shielder from the stormers?
Or sail to Harvest Island with the weapons platform and attempt to drive the dragons away from the harbor so we can take it back whether there’s a shield in place or not? ”
Fel squinted at her. “I think you should send a team to retrieve the components. Your place as queen is here, commanding people and ruling over your subjects, not risking your life on missions that take you from the safety of Castle Island.” He waved upward to indicate the shield protecting it.
“That is a wise place for a queen, but it won’t be that safe here until I can figure out who sent assassins after me—and if they’ll try again.
Did you ever learn who the officer was who launched those ships after us?
” When they’d returned from their last mission, Syla had requested that Fel snoop around and ask questions of old military contacts in the harbor, but everyone knew he was her bodyguard, and he’d met evasiveness when he’d made inquiries.
“I did try. Those who were good friends and superior officers when I served have since retired.” The wistful look in his eyes was brief before he went on. “The answer I got when I questioned the younger men serving now was simply orders. That’s all anyone said. Orders.”
“I would suspect General Dolok, but when we left, he only wanted to put me in a dungeon cell, not have me killed.”
“Only.”
Syla spread her arms. The whole situation had her daunted and at a loss as to where to start.
Maybe that was why she was having fantasies about sneaking into the stormer headquarters and finding and seducing Vorik to get back the components.
Funny how many of her fantasies involved her getting horizontal with him to achieve her goal.
Too bad she didn’t know where the stormer headquarters were. If she did…
“It is your prerogative as the ruler of the Kingdom to relieve military officers of duty and promote new men into leadership positions over the Royal Fleet, Protectors, and Enforcers,” Fel said.
“Your mother didn’t when she took the throne after your father’s passing, but he made a number of changes when he became king.
As I recall, he got rid of some corrupt figures and promoted a captain all the way up to general. ”
“That was before I was born, but I’m glad to know my father couldn’t abide corruption.” She wasn’t surprised in the least.
Fel’s expression turned wry. “I’d already served many years when it happened and remember it well.” He rubbed his hip, probably an old injury.
Fel had many that bothered him chronically, and Syla wished she could allow him to retire. But she needed him, at least for a time.
“I am aware that it’s my right to do that,” she said, “but I don’t have any familiarity with the officers who would be logical choices.
I suppose I can start talking to some of them, but…
” She waved toward the weapons platform and vaguely in the direction of Harvest Island.
“I’m not sure when there will be time to conduct interviews or if that’s even a good way to go about finding people worthy of promotions. ”
“You’d typically want to be aware of their records and if they’re respected as leaders, but it might be wisest, at this point, to pick from those you’re certain are loyal instead of the most capable. Sometimes, the most capable are also the most ambitious.”
“How do I find those who would be loyal to me?” Syla spread her arms.
“You need spies,” Fel replied without hesitation, “to keep their ears open and let you know what gossip is going around in the military offices and barracks. You can trust that the general has spies in the castle.”
“Maybe I should… give it some time and attempt to take actions that inspire loyalty in people. If I could prove myself worthy of their regard, surely that would be ideal.”
“I’m not going to call that naive, but…”
“That’s the word that popped promptly into your mind?” Syla smiled sadly.
“I don’t know if those who aspire to control the throne and are conspiring as we speak will give you time to prove yourself.”
“I guess I could visit the brothel where I healed that woman—Celena. She mentioned that high-ranking officers and minor lords visit regularly, and she volunteered to report on them for me.” Syla longed to be above employing spies but accepted that she alone couldn’t gather the information she needed.
“I agree that you should use her, but summon her to visit you here or at a neutral location. Queens don’t visit brothels.”
“I visited two weeks ago.”
“You were a princess then.”
“So it was all right?”
“No, it wasn’t, but you were determined.”