Blackveil - Page 150/210

“I don’t remember . . .” Her head hurt too much and she was too groggy to recall the other night’s events. “I heard the death bell.”

“Death bell? Just now? Nah, that was just the midday bell.”

“Then it was all a dream,” she whispered in relief. “Zachary is all right.”

There was a painful period of silence before Elgin spoke again. “I don’t know what your dream was, and while that was not a death bell, the prince—the king is not all right, but he lives. For now.”

“Oh, gods.” Unbidden tears streamed down her cheeks as she pieced together shreds of memory. The mad ride down the Winding Way with Ben, the wagon charging up the street bearing Zachary impaled with an arrow and Lord Coutre dying beside him. “Tell me, tell me about him.”

“Well,” Elgin said, “I don’t know much more than he made it through two nights.”

It gave Laren hope. If Zachary made it through two nights ... Now he just had to keep making it. He had to!

“Your Riders have been worried about you,” Elgin said quietly.

She squinted at him, made out his blurry form sitting in a chair beside her bed. “I don’t think I was sick. I don’t know.” She racked her brain, searching for other memories of the day. She recalled being in Zachary’s quarters and talking to Colin. She remembered Lady Estora coming to see Zachary.

“Destarion said it came on rapid. He thought maybe it was the strain.”

That certainly could be, she thought. However, her vision was already subtly improving and the headache lifting. Elgin was less of a blur. In fact, she could discern dark shadows beneath his eyes, a grayness to him she had not seen before.

“There is something else you’ll want to know about the king,” he said. “He’s a married man now. We have a queen.”

“What?” Laren sat bolt upright and the world darkened once more and she thought she might fall back into unconsciousness.

“Easy there, Red,” Elgin said. “The menders wanted me to warn you to take it slow.”

His voice anchored her and she blinked away the dark. “They did it,” she whispered as a rush of memory hit her all at once, the heated discussion with Colin, the tea. “Those bastards. They did it.”

“Er, you’re not calling the king and his new queen ...”

“No, I mean Colin and the others. His conspirators. They got Zachary married. Tell me, have my Riders gone out with the news of any of this?”

Despite her obvious disorientation and emotional behavior, Elgin remained calm, steady, her anchor. “Counselor Dovekey ordered them out late this morning with the joyous news.”

Laren crushed handfuls of blanket in her fists. No doubt they downplayed Zachary’s injury, as well, if that was even included in the message. Oh, yes, she had done what she could to promote the forthcoming marriage between Zachary and Estora, but she hadn’t wanted it to come about in this manner. Not at all. Not through duplicity. There were those who would see through the deception no matter how well concealed, and if that happened, it would only make matters worse.

She threw her blanket off and swung her legs over the side of the bed. They’d clothed her in a sleeping gown, but she was relieved to see her uniform hanging on hooks. She jumped to her feet.

And the room slanted and the gray pervaded her vision.

“Whoa, lass!” Elgin said. “Steady now. Remember, take it slowly.”

She sank back down onto the bed and glared at Elgin, her hands trembling. “They dosed me with something, Chief,” she said. “They put something in my tea. They did not want me to interfere with their little plan.” She thought he’d probably think her raving, delirious. He did not move or react to her words, but rubbed his chin thoughtfully as if considering her sanity.

“Huh,” he said finally. “Who all is involved?”

Laren closed her eyes and sent up a small prayer of thanks to the heavens. He believed her. Colin and the others probably preferred to cast doubt on her rationality, which could only serve their own cause. If she gainsayed them, they could undermine her authority, her very sanity, so no one believed her. Her assertions would be brushed aside as the ravings of a woman grief stricken by the loss of someone she was so very close to. She’d been in such despair, they’d say, illness had weakened her mind.

But they hadn’t counted on Elgin. Or her Riders. Elgin believed her. Her Riders would believe her. She’d have to move carefully so the conspirators did not work to discredit her.

“Spane,” Laren said. “He started it, then Colin joined in. Destarion is the one who dosed my tea. And Colin said Harborough, with the army to back him, was in favor of it. I’m going to kill them.”

“The whole army?”

“You know what I mean. The conspirators. They went against protocol, against king’s law, and they didn’t want me to inform the lord-governors of it.”

“I see,” Elgin replied, “but the king was going to marry Lady Estora anyway, and this should help secure a smooth transition of power.”

“Oh, Chief, not you, too.”

“I’m not saying it’s right, at least in a legal sense. I’m sure Zachary will have a few things to say should the gods grant us his recovery. And it was certainly wrong of them to remove you from the process as they did. But what can you do? Gah, politics and intrigue. It’s why I didn’t want to come back.”