Chapter 43 #2
Rydon threw back his head and laughed, catching himself at the last moment when several heads turned in their direction. He lowered his head and walked faster. “That’s about as likely as Ren having a plan that doesn’t involve killing someone.”
As they neared the castle, Rydon opened his mouth to ask something when shouts sounded ahead of them. They ducked behind a building on their left as soldiers rushed past, their armor clanging.
Exchanging a look, Gabriol leaned out of cover. A moment later, he moved back and pushed Rydon further out of sight.
“I don’t know what’s happened, but we can’t go in this way.”
“Let’s wait then.”
More soldiers rushed past, while others went toward the castle.
“Fuck.” Rydon closed his eyes.
“What?”
“I think I know what’s happened.”
Gabriol lifted an ashen eyebrow as he waited for Rydon to continue.
Opening his mouth to answer, he was saved from doing so when a soldier passing nearby shouted.
“Spartans! Spartans at the gates!”
Rydon shrugged, a rueful smile on his face when Gabriol rolled his eyes.
The dull roar of conversations in the throne room made Lerek wince more than once. He’d forgotten how loud these events were.
As more and more dignitaries and their families arrived, Lerek wished he’d never returned. His face felt as if it was frozen in a satirical mien of crown prince arrogance mixed with feigned graciousness.
This is what he’d run from in the first place.
Lerek shuddered.
“Hello, Lerek.”
Startled out of his reverie, Lerek pasted a smile on his face and inclined his head at Serephina.
His father’s second wife was beautiful; dark haired with big brown eyes framed by thick lashes that made her seem innocent.
She’d married his father after becoming pregnant with Adonis, Lerek’s half-brother.
Offeni by birth, Serephina had arrived in Metilai with a healthy dowry from her wealthy merchant father, looking for a titled husband. She landed the emperor instead.
Lerek shifted his gaze to the small woman who clutched his new sister in her arms.
“Greetings, Serephina,” Lerek said, hoping his voice didn’t sound as exasperated as he felt. “You look wonderful.”
She smiled, a poisonous lift of her lips that never reached her eyes. No, those eyes held naked hatred instead.
“Well. For someone who’s been dead close to a year, you look well.”
Lerek inclined his head.
A moment of silence settled between them until a woman grabbed Serephina’s attention, turning her away to speak with two men behind her. Lerek took the opportunity to leave.
It took some time navigating through the crush, but he made it out of an exit to the rear of the room and away from prying eyes. A shield of City Watch provided the cover he needed and he strode down the corridor eventually taking him to the royal residences.
When he finally made it to his rooms, Xoran was standing in front of his doors, waiting. The captain turned at the sound of his footfalls, opening the doors for him.
“Did you get what we need?”
Xoran nodded as he closed the doors behind him. “Aye. I’ve already given them to Terena. At seven bells tomorrow night, they’ll go to the great hall and blend in with the guards.”
“Good,” Lerek mumbled. He yanked on the front of his coat, which fastened higher up on his neck than he was used to. The uniforms for royal events were not meant for comfort, he knew, but it was barely tolerable.
Lerek cursed under his breath, thinking of how much longer he’d have to wear it. Only a few more hours today and then the dinner tomorrow.
“What else?” He paced the room. “I need to find out what Christos has—”
A loud banging sounded at the door. Lerek and Xoran exchanged a look as Xoran’s hand went to his sword. He strode for the door and yanked it open to see one of his men standing there with a grim expression.
“Captain,” the man said, his eyes flicking beyond Xoran to Lerek. “Highness. General Peleon and Emperor Solon need you both. Right now, in the council room.”
“What’s happened?” Lerek asked as he and Xoran immediately quit the rooms, following behind the guard as they made their way down the corridor.
All around, Lerek noticed servants and courtiers anxiously speaking or running every which way. There were no guards about.
“The Spartans are outside the city walls. Doesn’t look like many, a couple hundred maybe, but the colors of the Spartan Liodari were spotted.”
Lerek’s head snapped around and he barely missed slamming into the balustrade when they rounded the corner to the staircase leading to the council room.
“Liodari? Are you certain?”
“Aye,” the guard said. “Spotted them about ten minutes ago. The general has ordered more men on the walls near the gates but they haven’t moved, nor have they sent anyone forward to speak.”
Lerek exchanged a worried look with Xoran.
Was it Daris? Lerek had the crazy thought that the commander had found out Terena was there and had come for her.
Had Terena told him she was here? Was this a ruse to let her inside so they could ransack the city?
No. Lerek shook his head. He would not believe it of her.
“Have they sent anyone to speak with them?”
“I don’t know, Your Highness,” the man mumbled as they strode down the hall to the room. The hall was filled with Imperial Guard. There were more men from the Watch as well, all heavily armored.
Inside the council room, his father stood in front of a large, rectangular table with a section of the center painted to show the city of Metilai. Lerek knew the section could be turned over, where another map, this one of the continent, was depicted.
Men of various ranks and nationalities were inside, pulling Lerek up short. He’d never seen anyone other than his father, uncle, and their own military leaders in this room.
As he looked over the other faces, Lerek wondered at their inclusion. He had a feeling there was something else at play here, and not only the fact that they happened to be here for his succession feast and now were in the middle of what appeared to be a siege.
As soon as his father saw him, he motioned him over with a scowl. Despite the dark expression, he looked haggard.
Lerek had marked the changes in his father upon his return, knowing it owed to the events of the last year.
The loss of one son and the disappearance of another.
The war looming with the Spartans that, truthfully, the emperor had instigated.
Throw gods into the mix, and Lerek no longer wondered what worries burdened his father other than the usual minutia of running an empire.
“No one’s breached your walls in over a century,” a man beside Lerek’s uncle, Peleon, remarked. Lerek recalled meeting him earlier. He had a smushed-in face with thick, dark lips and eyes constantly appearing as if he was squinting. Lerek could not remember where he was from.
“That’s what you said a minute ago,” the man continued, flinging a corpulent arm in Peleon’s direction. “You have more than one exit out of Metilai. I daresay maybe even a secret exit. Let us make use of it now—”
“They won’t attack,” Peleon huffed, his face ruddier than usual. He looked as if he’d been holding his breath.
Glaring at the man who’d spoken, he added, “It’s the vanguard, nothing more. If they attack now, we will easily rout them. No, they are waiting.”
“For what?”
Lerek spun around to look at the new speaker, a man with golden curls held back from his face with a black strip of leather. His skin was tanned as if he spent much of his life outdoors, his grey eyes flashing with impatience.
“I do not know, Romulus,” Peleon seethed. Lerek watched a vein in his temple throb. “Whatever it is, we’ll be ready. In the meantime, we do not panic.”
“We already know of your defeat at Ravos at the hands of the former tracker, Terena Luca,” the man, Romulus, said.
He looked around at the others, who nodded and mumbled in agreement.
“And if the rumors are true, she had an army with her, led by the Olympian god, Hermes. Perhaps his army is on it’s way here now. ”
The din erupting at his words made Lerek wince, despite the elation flooding his chest. His father shouted to be heard and his uncle screamed at a man near him, one of the Offeni royals.
“How is that possible?”
“I thought all the gods were killed? You said there was no truth to the—”
“SILENCE!”
Lerek watched his father as the room quieted slowly. The emperor’s face was as red as an apple, his heaving breaths making his shoulders bounce as he glared at everyone.
“Terena Luca will be handled,” his father said into the sudden stillness of the room. “And the dinner goes forward as planned.”
A chorus of protests erupted, and for several long minutes, the din of the various conversations was loud enough to make Lerek’s ears ring.
“And what of the rumors? What of Hermes?”
The emperor thumped on the table so hard, some of the war figurines on the map fell over. The room quieted as Lerek’s father glared at them all.
“I look around this room, and I do not see leaders,” he sneered, his dark eyes darting around at everyone. “I see muling babes, whining about rumors, crying about a tracker brat who is so insignificant, I’d forgotten all about her until her reappearance in Ravos.
“The only reason my men were there was to take back the prince! If General Peleon had stayed, I assure you, that rabble would not have won in Colinas.”
“And what of the Spartans?”
Lerek’s eyes darted to Romulus, the most outspoken of his father’s guests. He must be more important than Lerek had first thought, although he could not place where he was from.
“You’re worried about a hundred warriors? I have thousands under my command. Do you see me losing my composure?”
Sullen silence thickened in the room as Lerek watched his father’s sneering countenance.
“You were all invited here for a reason, so you are all made aware of the situation.
We will continue with the festivities as planned, regardless of the wolves at our gates.
You will be assigned additional guards for the duration of your stay.
Updates will be provided as needed, and if the situation changes, we have an evacuation plan ready.
“But we are not there yet. So, comport yourselves as men befitting your stations.” His eyes narrowed to dangerous slits as his lip curled up. “Or you’ll be the first ones thrown to those wolves.”