With Gabriel a half-pace behind, Regis stormed across the inner courtyard and into the main Castle. Servants and an occasional courtier scurried out of their way. Once a Guardsman began to intercept them but withdrew, bowing respectfully. Regis was not sure whether the man had recognized him or Gabriel as the former Commander, and he did not care.
As they approached Rinaldo’s council chamber, the Guardsman on duty outside the door held his ground. Gabriel stepped to the fore.
“Commander—” the Guardsman protested.
“Move aside, Esteban. That’s a direct order. One way or another, we’re going through that door. I don’t want to lose another good man to this idiocy.”
The Guardsman’s mouth dropped open. He let them pass. Gabriel knocked loudly and then, without waiting for a response, flung the door open.
The chamber was modest, once used for informal Comyn gatherings. A table had been set up in the center, with Rinaldo at the head. Maps and documents were laid out, along with a tray containing a carafe of wine, unwatered by its deep hue.
Rinaldo looked up sharply as Regis and Gabriel entered. To either side sat Valdir Ridenow, two courtiers from minor noble families, and the cristoforopriest who had conducted the conversions at Rinaldo’s court. Danilo stood a pace behind and to the side of Rinaldo, but the chair to Rinaldo’s right was conspicuously empty.
“Regis!” Rinaldo exclaimed. “Blessed saints, what has happened? Has there been an attempt on your life?”
“It’s not myblood.” Regis heard his own voice ringing through the chamber, then a terrible stillness, a waiting, an expectancy. Every head turned in his direction, some with expressions of amazement, others with dismay. Danilo shifted, his hand going to the hilt of his sword. Valdir’s eyes reflected the despair of a man confronted with his own worst fears.
Regis waited another heartbeat. “Some of this blood belonged to Haldred Ridenow. The man yousent to guard those children—children youabducted from their families against every principle of honor and decency!”
Several of the council cried out in protest. One started to rise. In a lightning move, Gabriel clamped one hand on the man’s shoulder and forced him back to his seat.
“I?” Rinaldo faltered. “I had nothing to do—”
“If this outrage was not carried out on your orders, then it was done behind your back, and you are still to blame!” Regis cut him off. It took all his discipline not to leap across the table and shake Rinaldo into sense.
“Do you think you can order men to do the things you are too squeamish to handle yourself and then deny all responsibility? Or that ignorance excuses incompetence? I tell you, if those who answer to you do evil without your leave, then you are doubly guilty, for you are responsible not only for their crimes but for your own blindness and your failure to stop them!”
“This is outrageous! You cannot simply walk in and make these ridiculous accusations!”
“Haldred is dead, you say?” Valdir blurted out, “How?”
In that single word, Regis knew that the Ridenow lord, whatever his other failings, had been ignorant of the prison-school and his cousin’s role in it.
“Haldred was one of three men holding children as hostages from important families in order to ensure their obedience to this—this pretender.” Regis saw his brother flush and half rise, but he did not falter. “One of them was my own niece, my sister’s daughter. Another was Felix Lawton.”
“Lawton?” Valdir sounded dazed.
“He is still alive, although gravely injured. Most of this blood is his. He may not survive.” Regis glared at his brother again. His breath caught in his throat, and he shoved away the memory of adrenaline and blaster fire. “The Federation sent in a rescue team.”
“What is he talking about?” one of the minor lords stammered.
“Federation police?”
“The last time that happened, there was rioting all through the Old Town—”
“People will never stand for it!”
“It wasn’t my idea!” Rinaldo protested. “It was—Luminosa said—she took care of everything! I didn’t know about the Lawton boy!”
Meaning,Regis thought angrily, that youdid know about the others.
“Where is she?” Valdir demanded. “My kinsman is slain! Why is this woman not here to answer for it?” He pointed to the vacant chair.
Rinaldo pounded on the table. The councillors, all except Valdir, flinched. “You forget yourself!” he roared at Valdir. “ Iam king here, not you! Igive the commands.”
“Are you hiding her?” Valdir shot back. “Protecting her? I say, bring her forth!”
“You have no authority over this council or Lady Luminosa.” The cristoforoshook off the moment of mute shock. “She answers only to His Majesty and the Lord of All Worlds!”
“We will find her,” Regis said, ignoring the priest, “and then we will hear the truth.”
“You’re distraught, brother, and you forget yourself.” Strain rendered Rinaldo’s voice tinny. “You cannot give orders here! I am the Head of Hastur, your legitimate liege, and I am king over all of you!”
That is about to change.
Before Regis could reply, he heard shrieks coming from the corridor outside. A woman’s voice, he thought. The councillors fell silent.
Rinaldo gestured curtly to Danilo. “Find out what that commotion is about. We have important business here and must not be interrupted.”
Danilo went to the door and returned a moment later with one of the Guardsman and Tiphani Lawton. For once, she wore the ordinary clothing of a Darkovan noblewoman, a high-necked gown of embroidery-trimmed wool, instead of her usual version of cristofororobes.
Anguish churned about Tiphani like a miasmic haze. She rushed to Rinaldo’s side and threw herself at his feet. Her eyes were wide and red rimmed, as if she saw the world through a blood- smeared lens. One of the councillors gasped.
Regis and Danilo exchanged glances. Danilo gave a small shake of his head. Regis steeled himself even as his gut twisted into an icy knot.
With surprising gentleness, Rinaldo lifted Tiphani to her feet. “Dear lady, domna cariosa, calm yourself. Tell us, whatever is the matter? Has—has something happened to the queen?”
Between gulping breaths, Tiphani managed to force out the words, “No, Her Majesty lives. But the baby—”
Although Rinaldo lacked the gift of laran,the force of his emotional reaction—denial, rage, stunned daze—battered them all. Regis recoiled as if he had been physically struck. Danilo looked nauseated, almost ill. Gabriel’s face turned ashen.
Rinaldo fell back into his chair. “My son . . . born too soon?”
Tiphani lifted her face, and Regis thought he had never seen such bleak confusion, not even when Felix had been so sick.
Felix! Had she heard—d id she yet know?
A few mute movements of her lips, and then she forced the words out: “The babe is gone, vanished from my lady’s womb!”
Appalled silence hung in the air.
“Is—is it certain?” stammered one of the courtiers. Tiphani looked as if she would break down again.
“My son . . . my son . . .” Rinaldo swayed like a man who has suffered a fatal wound.
“How can this be?” the other councillor recovered himself sufficiently to ask. “A babe spirited away, unborn?”
“It cannot be natural,” the cristoforopriest intoned.
The words passed over Regis like so many puffs of air, devoid of meaning. As angry as he had been with his brother only a few moments before, now his heart responded to the bewilderment on Rinaldo’s face.
And Tiphani, for whom he had never cared, whom he held responsible for the whole bloody disaster and Zandru only knew how much friction yet to come with the Federation, surely she deserved a morsel of compassion as well. She did not even know of her son’s desperate condition.