Fey 02 - Changeling (13 page)

The boys spoke in unison for a third time, a single reedy voice speaking with great power.

"Good," Nicholas said when they were finished.
 
"Add the traditional closing, and recite the entire announcement."

The boys recited all three parts, pausing between them as if inserting a new memory.
 
Holbrook mouthed the words with them, apparently committing them to his own memory as well so that he could help them if they needed it.

They ended with, "May the Roca guide you in all things."

The words made Nicholas start.
 
This was where Matthias had always claimed Nicholas had his failings — his lack of understanding of Rocaanism.
 
Nicholas had never turned to the Roca for help.
 
He had never asked the Holy One's help in finding God's Ear.
 
Such things, he had always thought, were for simpler people, and now, at a time he could use comfort, he didn't believe in the one thing that others would have used.

The boys had stopped speaking.
 
The silence in the room as deafening.
 
They all tilted their heads toward him, as if waiting for his comments.
 
Holbrook looked at him too, his grizzled features pressed into a frown.

"That was right," Nicholas said half a beat too late.
 
"That was good.
 
Well done."

He nodded to Holbrook, suddenly tired of talking with these children, these boys who were going to go from village to village announcing the news of his father's death.
 
They would see more of the land than Nicholas ever had.
 
One of them would have stop at the base of the Cliffs of Blood, another speak to the people who lived near the Slides of Death. Such wonderful adventurous names, such unknown places, places he wouldn't be able to travel to for years, not after what had happened to his father.

"You did well, boys," Holbrook said.
 
"Meet me in the courtyard for your assignments.
 
I will be there shortly."

The boys bowed again to Nicholas, then filed out of the chamber.
 
Finally he saw differences.
 
Some boys were taller than others.
 
Some walked quickly, others hesitated.
 
Still others glanced over their shoulders at Nicholas himself, as if they couldn't believe they had stood before the king.

Had his father been alive, they never would have.
 
Some criers grew into young manhood and were reassigned jobs through the kingdom without ever seeing the king.

Holbrook waited until the last boy had closed the door behind him before coming up front.
 
"You could have relayed your message, Sire, and I could have told the boys."

Nicholas shook his head.
 
"One wrong word and I would worry.
 
No.
 
It's better that it came from me.
 
Even then, there will be trouble."

"How do you know?" Hidden in Holbrook's question was another:
 
Did
she
tell you?
 

"It's logical," Nicholas said.
 
"Blue Isle is a different place from the one we were born into, milord."

"The Fey, Sire."

Nicholas
 
nodded.
 
"The Fey.
 
The Tabernacle.
 
Here, even the palace.
 
Everything is different.
 
Nothing will ever be the same."

Holbrook put a hand on the arm of the throne.
 
"We'll all miss your father, Sire."

Nicholas made himself smile, although he had never felt less like smiling in his life.
 
"I suppose we all will."

"Tis a good decision you made, having the coronation in two days."

Nicholas shrugged.
 
"We have much to do before that."

Holbrook apparently heard the dismissal.
 
He took his hand off the throne, and bowed.
 
"I have boys to tend, Sire."

"I know.
 
Thank you.
 
Make sure they have enough supplies."

"We've done this before, Sire.
 
We know how to send them."

"I'm sure you do," Nicholas muttered.
 
Holbrook didn't hear him, and even if he had, he wouldn't have understood.
 
The lords were having trouble realizing that Nicholas was no longer the boy who played at their feet.
 
They had to listen to him now, and they had treat him with respect.
 
But they also had to stop assuming that he didn't know anything about the Kingdom.
 
He did.
 
A comment like the one he had made about supplies would have sounded like a natural reminder coming from his father. From Nicholas, it sounded like ignorance.

Holbrook let himself out of the chamber.
 
Nicholas stood and rubbed his buttocks.
 
The throne had been hard.
 
He would ask for a cushion.
 
He didn't know how his father had stood it — sitting in a chair like that for hours every day, listening to business and complaints.
 
But Nicholas would have to do the same, whether he did it in the Great Chamber or the Audience Room didn't matter.
 
He was no longer free to roam at will.
 
Everyone depended on him now.

The door to the Great Chamber opened, and Matthias bowed to him.
 
"Forgive me, Sire, but I would like a moment."

Nicholas nodded and waved Matthias in.

Matthias entered and closed the door behind him.
 
"Are we alone?"

"As alone as we can be."
 
Nicholas would explain no more than that.
 
After his father died, he had ordered guards to listening posts throughout the palace.
  
Four were stationed at posts now, watching all that transpired in the Great Chamber.
 
Nicholas would never be completely alone, but he would probably live through any attack.

He had ordered the guards for himself only.
 
He left Jewel and his son unprotected, an act which he could not bear to contemplate too closely.

The guards had all taken vows of secrecy which, of course, Nicholas had reiterated as he set up this plan with their superiors.
 
Nicholas, however, threatened a harsh and unspecified retaliation should any information escape.
 
So far nothing had leaked, but Nicholas wanted to prevent any discussion, even among the guards themselves.

"We need to talk before your coronation," Matthias said.

"Yes," Nicholas said.
 
"We need to plan the location."

"More than that."
 
Matthias came deeper into the chamber.
 
The room seemed empty without the criers in it.
 
"We need to discuss your future."

Matthias had said those words to Nicholas many times in a thousand different ways.
 
Matthias had been Nicholas's religious supervisor, and had often approached Nicholas with those same words when Nicholas was not doing his coursework or attending the Sacraments enough.

"Do we?" Nicholas asked.
 
He retreated to the throne and sat in it as his father would have, feet together, hands gripping the arms.

"Yes."
 
Even though Nicholas was sitting on the platform, Matthias was taller.
 
His unnatural height and thinness made his red robes hang on him.
 
The small swords hanging like tassels from the sash marked his narrow, almost girlish waist.
 
He didn't look like the Rocaan.
 
He looked like a devil of a man dressed as the Rocaan.

Nicholas didn't encourage him to say any more.
 
Matthias was going to be trouble.
 
He had never thought well of Nicholas.
 
Matthias was a scholar and Nicholas had never been.
 
Nicholas preferred swords, horses, and the smell of battle to pens, books, and the clash of minds.
 
Now a former student become King.
 
Matthias would never take him seriously.

"Before we plan the coronation itself, I think we must discuss Jewel."

Nicholas stiffened.
 
Matthias had opposed the marriage from the beginning.
 
He believed the Fey to be as evil as the Soldiers of the Enemy, the mythical people who had cut down the Roca before he was Absorbed.
 
Matthias only agreed to perform the ceremony because Nicholas's father had talked him into it somehow.
 
And Matthias had done the minimal amount of work on it, giving the ceremony a brevity that wasn't normal.

"Shall I ring for her?" Nicholas asked.

Matthias shook his head.
 
He wasn't wearing his biretta and his blond curls fell in disarray around his face.
 
"This is between us, Nicholas."

"Sire," Nicholas corrected him.

"As long as I am Holy Sir to you," Matthias said.

Nicholas nodded.
 
"Point taken.
 
A meeting of equals then, Matthias."

"Exactly," Matthias said.
 
"And as your spiritual advisor, I would like you to hear me through on this one."

"If you're going to disparage Jewel —"

"I merely want you to think of other possibilities."

"She is right, you know, about her own behavior.
 
She has been completely trustworthy since she has come here."

Matthias held up one hand.
 
"Let me speak my part.
 
Then throw me out if you have to."

Nicholas sighed.
 
If he didn't give Matthias the chance to speak, Matthias would speak anyway.
  
Or take matters into his own hands, as he had always done.
 
"Quickly, then.
 
I have other matters to attend to."

Matthias templed his fingers in front of his lips, bowed his head as if he were thinking how to approach this topic, and then said, "Five years ago, when the Rocaan died, the Fey lost a major opportunity of a kind we don't completely understand.
 
They tried to learn the secret to holy water, they tried to infiltrate the Tabernacle, and these things did not work."

"You don't have to rehash history with me," Nicholas said, allowing irritation into his voice.

"I'm merely setting the situation," Matthias said.
 
"What happens if, after that meeting, the Fey decided to take a different approach with us."

"You've mentioned this before, Matthias.
 
You have no evidence."

"Your father's death."
 
Matthias let his hands drop.
 
"That's my evidence."

"We don't even know who killed him."

Matthias took a deep breath, as if he were deciding how candid to be, and then let it out in a great sigh.
 
"Nicholas, I served as a Danite in the Kenniland Marshes.
 
It was one of the most miserable experiences in my life.
 
I was only there for two years, not enough to make an impression on them, but enough for me to gain an understanding.
 
Your father died on the entrance to the Marshes.
 
You've never been there.
 
I have.
 
There are few trees.
 
The land is flat for miles.
 
A man could not hide there.
 
A Fey could."

"That's not evidence," Nicholas said.
 
"That's speculation."

Matthias tugged on the silver filigree sword around his neck.
 
"Perhaps, but you promised to hear me out.
 
Let's assume that after the 50th Rocaan died, the Fey decided to change tactics.
 
Let's assume that Jewel's agreement with you was part of that change.
 
Then she would gain your confidence, become important to you, and over time, work her way into this government.
 
The assassination of Alexander would have been part of the plan.
 
When he died, she would become the Queen of Blue Isle.
 
Sebastian —"