Lukel laughed, shooting Sarene a smile. "The count claims that something he ate didn't agree with him. He ... stepped out."
"It's impossible," Kiin grumbled. "There was nothing in those crackers that could have upset his stomach."
"I'm sure it wasn't the crackers, Uncle." Sarene said with a smile. "It must be something he ate before he came."
Lukel laughed in agreement. "Domi knows, that man eats so much it's a wonder he doesn't end up sick every night by pure laws of probability."
"Well, we should continue without him." Roial said. "There's no telling how long he will be indisposed."
Agreed," Sarene said, preparing to begin again.
Roial, however, beat her to it. He stood slowly, his old body looking surprisingly weak. The duke sighed, shaking his head. "If you will all forgive me, I have something to say?'
The nobles nodded, sensing the duke's solemnity.
"I will not lie to you; I never once debated whether or not action should be taken against Telrii. He and I have spent the last ten years as mercantile enemies. He is a flagrant, wasteful man—he will make a worse king, even, than Iadon. His willingness to even consider Hrathen's silly proclamation was the final proof I needed.
"No, my reason for demanding more time before we met was not to wonder if we should depose Telrii. The reason I asked for more time was to wait for some .. . associates of mine to arrive."
"Associates?" Sarene said.
"Assassins," Roial said. "Men I have hired out of Fjorden. Not all the people of that country are perfectly loyal to their god—some are sworn to gold instead."
"Where are they?" Sarene asked.
"Staying in an inn not far away," Roial said.
"But," Sarene said with confusion, "just last week you warned us against letting bloodshed advance our revolt."
Roial bowed his head. "The guilt was speaking, dear Sarene, for I had already sent for these men. However, I have changed my mind. This young man from Dula—"
Roial was interrupted by the sound of feet clomping in the entry hallway: Ahan had returned. Odd, Sarene thought to herself as she turned, I didn't hear the front door close.
When she turned, it was not Ahan she found standing in the doorway. Instead, she was confronted by a group of armed soldiers with a well-dressed man at their front. King Telrii.
Sarene jumped up, but her yell of surprise was lost among other similar exclamations. Telrii stepped to the side, allowing a dozen men in Elantris City Guard uniforms to fill the room. They were followed by the portly Count Ahan.
"Ahan!" Roial said. "What have you done?"
"I finally got you, old man," the count said gleefully, his jowls shaking. "I told you I would. Joke about how my caravans to Svorden are doing now, you cursed old idiot. We'll see how yours do while you spend the next few years in prison."
Roial shook a mournful, white-haired head. "You fool, Didn't you realize when this stopped being a game? We aren't playing with fruits and silks anymore."
"Protest if you will," Ahan said with a triumphant shake of his finger. "But you have to admit, I got you! I've been waiting to do this for months—I could never get Iadon to believe me. Can you believe that he actually thought you incapable of betraying him? He claimed your old friendship went too deep."
Roial sighed, regarding Telrii, who was smiling broadly, obviously enjoying the exchange. "Oh, Ahan." Roial said. "You have always been so fond of acting without thought."
Sarene was stunned. She couldn't move, or even speak. Traitors were supposed to be men with dark eyes and sour dispositions. She couldn't connect that image with Ahan. He was arrogant and impetuous, but she liked him. How could someone she liked do something so horrible?
Telrii snapped his fingers, and a soldier stepped forward and rammed his sword directly into Duke Roial's belly. Roial gasped, then crumpled with a moan. "Thus are the judgments of your king," Telrii said.
Ahan yelled. eyes widening in his fat face. "No! You said prison!" He rushed past Telrii, blubbering as he knelt beside Roial.
"Did I?" Telrii asked. Then he pointed at two of his soldiers. "You two, gather some men and find those assassins, then .. ." He tapped his thin thoughtfully. .. throw them off the walls of Elantris."
The two men saluted, then marched from the room.
"The rest of you," Telrii said. "kill these traitors. Start with the dear princess. Let it be known that this is the punishment for all those who try to usurp the throne."
"No!" Shuden and Eondel yelled in unison.
The soldiers started to move, and Sarene found herself behind a protective wall formed by Shuden, Eondel, and Lukel. Only Eondel was armed, however, and they were faced by ten men.
"Interesting you should mention usurpers. Duke Telrii," a voice said from across the table. "I was under the impression that the throne belonged to Iadon's family."
Sarene followed the sound. Her eyes found Spirit—or, at least, someone wearing Spirit's clothing. He had pale Aonic skin, sandy brown hair, and keen blue eyes. Spirit's eyes. But his face didn't show any signs of Elantris's taint. He tossed a rag on the table, and she could see the brown stains on one side—as if he wanted them to believe he had simply wiped away his makeup to reveal a completely different face underneath.
Telrii gasped, stumbling back against the wall. "Prince Raoden!" he choked. "No! You died. They told me you were dead!"
Raoden. Sarene felt numb. She stared at the man Spirit, wondering who he was, and if she had ever really known him.
Spirit looked at the soldiers. "Would you dare slay the true king of Arelon?" he demanded.
The Guard members stepped back, faces confused and frightened.
"Men. protect me!" Telrii yelped. turning and scrambling from the room. The soIdiers watched their leader flee, then unceremoniously joined him, leaving the conspirators alone.
Spirit—Raoden—hopped over the table, brushing past Lukel. He shoved the still blubbering Ahan out of his way and kneIt next to Kiin—the only one who had thought to try treating Roial's wound. Sarene watched dumbly from behind, her senses paralyzed. It was obvious that Kiin's care would be nowhere near enough to save the duke. The sword had passed completely through the man's body, delivering a painful wound that was eertainly mortal.
"Raoden!" Duke Roial gasped. "You have returned to us!"
"Be still, Roial," Raoden said, stabbing the air with his finger. Light burst from its tip as he began to draw.
"I should have known it was you," the duke rambled. "All of that silly talk about trusting the people. Can you believe I actually started to agree with you? I should have sent those assassins to do their work the moment they arrived."
"You are too good a man for that, Roial." Spirit said, his voice taut with emotion.
Roial's eyes focused, perceiving for the first time the Aon that Spirit was drawing above him. He breathed out in awe. "Have you returned the beautiful city as welI?"
Spirit didn't respond. instead concentrating on his Aon. He drew differently from the way he had before. his fingers moving more dexterously and quickly. He finished the Aon with a small line near the bottom. It began to glow warmly, bathing Roial in its light. As Sarene watched, the edges of Roial's wound seemed to pull together slightly. A scratch on Roial's face disappeared, and several of the liver spots on his scalp faded.
Then the light fell away, the wound still belching blood with each futile pump of the duke's dying heart.
Spirit cursed. "It's too weak." he said, desperately beginning another Aon. "And I haven't studied the healing modifiers! I don't know how to target just one part of the body."
Roial reached up with a quivering arm and grabbed Spirit's hand. The partially completed Aon faded away as the duke's movement caused Spirit to make a mistake. Spirit did not start again, bowing his head as if weeping.
"Do not cry, my boy," Roial said. "Your return is blessed. You cannot save this tired old body, but you can save the kingdom. I will die in peace, knowing you are here to protect it."
Spirit cupped the old man's face in his hands. "You did a wonderful job with me. Roial," he whispered. and Sarene felt intensely that she was intruding. "Without you to watch over me, I wouId have turned out like my father."
"No, boy." Roial said. "You were more like your mother from the start. Domi bless you."
Sarene turned away then as the duke's death turned gruesome, his body spasming and blood coming to his lips. When she turned back, blinking the tears from her eyes, Raoden was still kneeling over the old man's corpse. Finally he took a deep breath and stood, turning to regard the rest of them with sad—but firm—eyes. Beside her, Sarene felt Shuden. Eondel. and Lukel fall to their knees, bowing their heads reverently.
"My king," Eondel said, speaking for all of them.
"My ... husband," Sarene realized with shock.
CHAPTER 54
HE did what?" Hrathen asked with amazement.
The priest, startled by Hrathen's sudden reaction, stuttered as he repeated the message. Hrathen cut the man off halfway through.
The Duke of Ial Plantation, dead? By Telrii's command? What kind of random move was this? Hrathen could tell from the messenger's face that there was more, so he motioned for the man to continue. Soon Hrathen realized that the execution hadn't been random at all—that in fact it had been completely logical. Hrathen couldn't believe Telrii's fortune. Roial was said to be a crafty man; catching the duke in the act of treason had been amazingly propitious.
What the messenger related next, however, was even more shocking. The rumors said that Prince Raoden had returned from the grave.
Hrathen sat, dumbfounded, behind his desk. A tapestry fluttered on the wall as the messenger closed the door on his way out.
Control, he thought. You can deal with this. The rumor of Raoden's return was false, of course, but Hrathen had to admit that it was a masterful stroke. He knew of the prince's saintly reputation; the people regarded Raoden with a level of idolizing adoration that was given only to dead men. If Sarene had somehow found a look-alike, she could call him husband and continue her bid for the throne even now that Roial was dead.
She certainly works quickly, Hrathen thought with a respectful smile.
Telrii's slaughter of Roial still bothered Hrathen. Murdering the duke without trial or incarceration would make the other nobles even more apprehensive. Hrathen rose. Perhaps it wasn't too late to convince Telrii to at least draft a warrant of execution. It would ease the aristocratic minds if they were able to read such a document.
¤ ¤ ¤
TELRII refused to see him. Hrathen stood in the waiting room again, staring down two of Telrii's guards, arms folded in front of him. The two men watched at the ground sheepishly. Apparently, something had unsettled Telrii so much that he wasn't taking any visitors at all.
Hrathen didn't intend to let himself be ignored. Though he could not force his way into the room, he could make himself such a nuisance that Telrii eventually agreed to meet with him. So he had spent the last hour demanding a meeting every five minutes.