Chapter XIX

“We finally made it!” The words falling out of Lorenzo's mouth were full of triumph and pride. They'd traveled through Kolob, the land controlled by the Inquisition, and actually managed not only to make it out alive, but not indoctrinated into their belief system. Lorenzo wasn't too big on miracles, but it really seemed that bringing an acolyte of the Father along had bought them one. Several times they'd had to stop the carriage behind the thick tree-lines as patrols of witch-hunters, or small groups of traveling civilians walked by. So often Lorenzo was sure they'd made too much noise and someone was onto them, and yet they made it through, to the city of Aius, the capital of Arx, and on the morning of the royal wedding.

When Tassos said, “Let us pause and say a prayer of thanks to the Father for bringing us here safely,” Lorenzo hardly felt in a position to disagree. If the Father was real Lorenzo was more than grateful to him.

His gratitude at making it into the city alive distracted him from the obvious problem he would have otherwise noticed; because they were so late all the best spots to sell one's wares were already taken. All the spots along the main road for merchants to set up their stalls were filled, if Lorenzo wanted to set up shop anywhere he'd have to do so on one of the side roads, the roads less traveled.

As Lorenzo pondered where he was going to set up his stall, Tassos wandered off, trying to figure out how he would go about carrying out his mission. From what he gathered, the prince from Uvino was supposed to marry the Arxian Queen, making it much easier for Tassos to murder the boy within the capital city and make sure that an Arxian was blamed for his murder, but first he needed to figure out a way to get into the castle.

Tassos found his way to the moat of the castle, a stream that ran through the city, surrounding the fortress where the Queen of Arx lived. There was the main bridge to the castle, which could be raised or lowered as those inside wished, and there was a watermill on the eastern end of the moat, acting as a fountain that kept the water recycling and moving in a loop around the castle. Guards watched the main bridge, so if he were to enter that way he'd be sure to be searched. Now, nothing on his person really looked like a weapon, everything he carried looked harmless, but if they searched him they'd know his face, and the less they knew about him the better; the front gate was not an option. The only conceivable way he could see getting into the castle undetected would be if he somehow made use of the mill that was keeping the water moving, but certainly he couldn't do this during the day, neither could he linger beside the moat for long, for the guards may become suspicious of the man with white hair staring at the moat, and so, once he had a basic idea of how to get across the moat undetected, he left to find one of the many inns in the capital. With any luck, one of the cheaper, more run-down inns would have a room available still.

Up in the second floor of the castle Aryn stood, clad in her wedding dress, staring out the window at the busy streets. Thousands upon thousands of people bustled through the streets, pushing each other out of the way, conning each other into spending a week's wages on garbage, picking each other's pockets, and fighting over the best deals on souvenirs from the capital city. With the sheer display of sin she could see from her window it was hard to remember that this city was the center of their faith, the place where the Law had been written so many centuries ago, and the site where King Hadar gave his life for his people. All of them were gathered there to see her swear her heart to a boy prince, and her womb to bear only his children. No, they weren't there for her. Every one was there because everyone else was there, because it was “the thing to do,” and an easy way to make money.

“Nervous?” Sarahi asked her daughter as she stared out the window.

“You ask if I'm nervous? A good queen has no fear. A good queen does whatever it takes to ensure her kingdom's well-being, without hesitation and without reserve. And I'm terrified.”

Sarahi crossed the room to her daughter and placed her hands on her shoulders, “I've never told you this, but your father never wanted to marry me.”

“What?”

“It's true. Sure, he and I had been friends all our lives, so it's not as if we didn't have any feelings for each other at all, but he never had any real romantic feelings for me, and I never really had any for him.”

“You got married purely out of a sense of duty?”

Sarahi nodded, “We married to ensure a better future for Arx, just as you're about to do. I want you to know that even though we never fell in love, nor did we have enough time to grow into love, we were happy together. I believe you chose well when you chose Prince Paolo for a husband. He's just a boy, but he has a good heart. In time he'll make you happy, I'm sure of it.”

“If he ever grows up. I swear, sometimes he ages in reverse just to annoy me!” Aryn laughed.

“He'll grow up, don't worry,” Sarahi said. “In four years he'll become a handsome young man, a husband you'll be happy to have, and by then you'll know each other so well...it's like you'll be a part of each other.”

“Like you and my father?”

Sarahi looked a little caught off-guard by this question, as if she'd been caught in a lie. Yet after a moment she began to smile. “Yes, like your father and I.” Sarahi thought for a moment, opened her mouth to speak, closed it again, and then finally spoke. “There's another matter I should talk to you about.”

“Yes?”

“After this wedding's over, you might want to do something about Mahla.”

“My cousin? The Duchess? What do you mean?”

Sarahi shifted uncomfortably. “When you announced her as your cousin, as the late King Amasi's daughter, it created quite a stir. I'm sure it hasn't escaped your notice that technically she should have been next in line instead of you?”

“I did notice that, but what would you suggest?”

“I hate to say it...in fact, I can't believe I'm suggesting it, but you might need to make her disappear,” Sarahi said.

“Make her disappear? You mean have her killed? She's done nothing wrong!”

“You're right, she hasn't done anything wrong, but she's a threat in the worst way. You need to do something about her, before she causes a civil war. Kill one innocent person, save thousands,” Sarahi said, and Suddenly she felt terrible pain in both of her arms and legs, a shooting, sharp pain, like knives were being wrenched up between her muscles. She groaned and fell on the ground, her whole body curled into a fetal position.

“Mother!” Aryn bent down and tried to help Sarahi to her feet again. “Are you alright? Mother!”

Sarahi shook her head, trying to recover her bearings. The pain in her legs and arms was dissipating, and she tried to push herself to her feet. To her surprise, though, she found that she couldn't because something was weighing her down on her left side. She glanced over to her left side and saw that, in fact, it was her diamond war hammer, hanging from her belt. Suddenly it had become incredibly heavy, so much that she could not stand. She unbuckled the belt around her waist and stood with ease, leaving the hammer on the ground. Once she had risen to her feet, Sarahi grasped the hammer by the handle and attempted to lift it again. She strained and groaned and grunted, but with all her might she could barely lift it off the ground.

Aryn and Sarahi exchanged worried looks with one another. “What happened?” Aryn asked. She was sure she knew the answer, but she was hoping her mother would have a different explanation.

Sarahi let go of the hammer's handle, letting it drop onto the floor. With the enchantment making the diamond war-hammer both light enough for Sarahi to wield and strong enough to hold together gone the hammer shattered into many smaller diamonds, which scattered across the room, skidding along and cutting the bricks in the floor. All Sarahi could think when she saw that hammer shatter was about all the lives she'd saved wielding it, all of the demons she'd slain in the name of Arx, all the good she'd done. With one small piece of advice, one morally gray suggestion, it was gone.

“I'm no longer a paladin...” Sarahi said in disbelief.

“You've looked over the maps over a hundred times now!” Shamira said.

“You exaggerate. By my count it's only been thirteen times,” replied Milo.

“The map's not going to spontaneously change! What exactly do you hope to see this time around?”

“It's not what I hope to see, it's what I hope I won't see, any weakness in our defenses.” Milo sighed. “This is the day of our queen's wedding, the perfect day for an assassination. I wish Grigori was here for this...he'd make sure nothing happened. He was always better at catching spies and assassins.”

“Well, he's not,” Shamira said. “And you do yourself too little credit. And furthermore, my friend, with Nihilus currently under Duke Jachai's thumb the demon-conjurers have enough troubles back home. Why would they send an assassin here? You'd think they'd focus on liberating their own homeland first.”

“The Nihilites aren't the only ones I'm worried about,” Milo said.

“The people love their queen,” Shamira said.

“The common people do...and the Church does,” Milo gave Shamira a sad look. “You might not have heard anything about this yet, but our spy network has been hearing some troubling rumors.”

“Rumors of assassins?”

“Not of actual assassins, no. But since the trial and execution of Countess Yael, and the recent arrest of Marquis Husam the noble houses aren't happy with our queen.”

“Oh...”

“Furthermore, since our queen openly admitted that Duchess Mahla is her cousin, her cousin by King Hadar's older brother, the nobility have an alternative queen to follow at this point.”

“You think we're on the verge of civil war?” Shamira shuddered at the thought.

“I know we're on the verge of civil war. This is the day of the royal wedding, a day for the nobility to come out and flaunt their wealth. You'd think every expensive seat would have been filled by their kind, but no. Less than half of the noble families even sent a representative to attend the wedding. That's just short of openly insulting her. Rumor has it that Duke Jachai, now GRAND Duke Jachai, has spoken badly of her as well, and he's a member of the Council now, as well as head of the military. We're sitting on the head of a pin, just waiting for the breeze to pick up and push us off the edge.”

For Aryn the wedding was a blur, really. There was some nice music played during the ceremony, guests smiled at her, her mother walked her down the aisle to meet her young groom. All the while all she could think about was what her mother had said to her, and the result of even making the suggestion.

Duchess Mahla, looking uncomfortable in her fancy dress, stood in the front row, with several of her “friends” from the Dunn Banner standing near her, having been recently knighted. Aryn couldn't imagine having her cousin killed for something she might do. Mahla seemed plenty content enough just to go from mercenary to duchess. Yet, Aryn couldn't help of think about how many innocent people would die if she'd been reading Mahla wrong, if Mahla really did want to be Queen, really did try to take Arx by force. Aryn would gladly hand it over to prevent war, if she could be certain that Mahla would be a good ruler and wouldn't execute Aryn for the same reason Aryn was contemplating having her killed. By taking one innocent life how many could she save? She could afford the best assassins in Arx, if she needed. She could probably even just hire one of Mahla's own knights to kill her, they were accustomed to killing for coin. How loyal could mercenaries truly be? How innocent could Mahla truly be for that matter? The Dunn Banner Mercenary Company had likely been involved in all sorts of war crimes. Aryn had heard a rumor that they were the group Marquis Husam sent to raid Sabura anyway, making her at least as guilty as the Marquis, if it was true.

But then she remembered how her mother had lost her powers as a paladin when she even suggested that. God himself seemed to think such an act wasn't righteous. Any way that Aryn could justify killing Mahla was just conjecture, guess-work. Mahla MAY want power for herself, Mahla MAY have been involved in the raids in Sabura, Mahla MAY be a vicious killer. She had no strong evidence, less evidence even than she'd had when she had Countess Yael arrested. Besides, with how paranoid the arrest and execution of Countess Yael had made the noble houses Aryn was certain that killing Mahla would just make things worse. It wouldn't matter how well Aryn had concealed evidence of the murder, the noble houses would know it was her doing, and it would just confirm their fears that she was a tyrant looking to take their lands and their fortunes, a vicious queen who wanted to take everything away from them. No, by letting Mahla live, and even granting her land in Laherig, she was showing her kindness, a gesture of good will to the noble houses who all feared and hated her now.

“Queen Aryn, do you swear to cherish and care for Prince Paolo, to put him before yourself, to comfort him when the road all men travel gets difficult, to fully share your life with him, so long as you both shall live?”

Arch-Bishop Livana's words had jerked Aryn back to reality. It was as if she'd been shaken violently to awaken her from a dream, only to find herself in bed with a stranger. Well, not that she'd ever slept with a stranger, but she imagined that's what it would be like. Prince Paolo was looking at her with misty eyes and a loving smile. The Arch-Bishop was leaning forward, hanging on the suspense of waiting for Aryn's response. Aryn's pause was apparently long enough to cause the audience to murmur. There was even some stifled laughter from the audience, which caused Paolo to blush and look down. No matter what her reservations about this whole matter Aryn would not allow the poor boy to be utterly humiliated.

“I swear it,” Aryn said. Not exactly the traditional response, but they were the words that came to mind. And that was it, in that moment she was bonded to Paolo for life, and the alliance between their kingdoms was cemented. Aryn didn't even hear the Arch-Bishop's next words, and as such hadn't had time to brace herself for when Paolo leaned forward and kissed her full on the lips. She wasn't ready for it, and for a moment cringed as their lips met, but she soon returned the kiss, if for no other reason than for appearances' sake, and broke the kiss again promptly.

The audience cheered, every witness in the cathedral clapping their hands. Aryn felt dizzy, disoriented, the applause sounded to her like flood-waters pouring out to wash her away, and she would be swept up in the tide.