“I will most likely be returning to Guard headquarters before I come back to the palace. So you can tell him that something’s come up, and I needed to return to my men.” That will be true so far as it goes.
“Yes, ser.” A trace of a smile lurks around Norstaan’s lips.
“When the arms-commander wakes, you can tell him exactly what happened—alone.”
“Yes, ser.” With the words, Norstaan offers a vigorous nod.
Lerial turns to Kyedra. “We’d best go.”
Between Kyedra’s two guards and the two Mirror Lancers, and one Afritan Guard, the seven make quite a procession down to the stables. At least, that’s the thought Lerial has.
Once Lerial and Fourth Squad leave the palace, the two Aenian House guards take the lead, with Lerial and Kyedra directly behind, followed by Fhuraan and his squad. Lerial studies the people and riders and wagons moving on the circular road around the palace, but no one gives them more than a casual glance.
“Can you do anything?” When Kyedra finally speaks again, her voice is low. “I’m sorry. Mother and I had hoped…”
“I can likely sense what might be the problem. Perhaps more.”
“Have you heard more about Natroyor?”
Hasn’t anyone told her or Haesychya? “I asked your uncle about Mykel. He hasn’t heard anything.”
“Lord … I mean Lerial, you didn’t answer my question.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“He’s dead, too, isn’t he?”
“I’m sorry. Rhamuel told me he was crushed when the palace collapsed. He was likely asleep.”
There is low moment of silence that drags out … and out.
Finally, there is only the slightest catch, a small roughness in Kyedra’s voice as she asks, “Why? Why does someone want us all dead?”
“Why do you think that?”
“I could answer that simply. That’s not what you meant, was it?”
Lerial cannot help but smile slightly at Kyedra’s response. “Perhaps the better question would be who in Afrit has the most to gain from the death of the duke and all his heirs, as well as from the death of all of his best commanders.”
“All of his best commanders?”
“Of his best commanders, only your uncle and Subcommander Ascaar are still alive or able to command. The explosions at the Harbor Post, a poisoning, and an assassination have accounted for the rest. The senior remaining commander freely admits he is the least qualified commander for battles, and wishes that Ascaar were in command—except Ascaar is tied up fighting more Heldyans in Shaelt.”
“What about you?”
“Someone sent a false healer last night, supposedly from the palace. I was unconscious, but my officers wouldn’t let him see me.”
“There have to be traitors within the Afritan Guard. How else would they know?”
“There might be another way,” Lerial admits, “but I can’t think of it. I think there have to be more than one or two.” After several moments of silence, he asks, “What can you tell me about what ails your grandfather?”
“He’s hot, but not burning up. His stomach aches all the time, and his head hurts.”
That could be almost anything. “He’s not coughing or sneezing?”
“No. It’s not like a cold or consumption.”
“We’ll just have to see.”
After riding little more than a half kay on the boulevard that leads to the merchanting quarter opposite the harbor, they reach the wide road that heads westward up a gentle grade. The first several villas that they pass are modest, perhaps not even half the size of the palace in Cigoerne, but the next several are larger. After riding another half kay, the Aenian House guards turn up a paved lane. Thirty yards off the road is a pair of sturdy ironwork gates not quite three yards tall, which open as the two guards approach. Lerial and Kyedra ride through. Lerial can hear … and sense … when the gates closes behind the last riders in the squad. He thinks his order-sensing has increased slightly over the course of the day, but knows that could be wistful thinking.
While the grounds and gardens surrounding the redstone villa are shaded, the sprawling two-level structure is set on a low rise away from the trees and extends more than a hundred yards across the front. Lerial wonders about the lack of trees until they ride up to the main entrance, where, despite the seeming stillness of the day, he feels a cooler breeze coming from the north.
The entrance is on the east side of the villa, positioned so that it is shaded by the villa and the columns flanking the stone steps. The two Aenian house guards rein up at the north end of the wide steps, so that Lerial and Kyedra are opposite the middle of the steps when they halt.
“Ser…” murmurs Fhuraan, “I’d prefer you be accompanied.”
Much as he dislikes the idea, Lerial has to admit that the squad leader is right. He turns to look at Fhuraan. “For both the lady and me. She is likely in just as much danger.”
“Four men, then.”
Kyedra looks to Lerial as if to protest, then nods, almost sadly.