“No,” the archer muttered. “We obey the master of the Citadel. D’Arnlo is dead, so he is no longer the master. We have a new leader.”
“For now, let’s say the prince is your new leader,” Tar suggested.
The archer shrugged. “Sounds . . . reasonable.”
“Glad to hear it,” Relam muttered. “Tar, send Sebast and Delan to collect the palace guards and Commander Hadere of the city guard. We need to set the record straight with them first. Then, I imagine the Assembly will want to know what the hell has been going on in here.”
“Aye,” Tar agreed, moving towards the stairwell. “And you still have to decide what to do about Lord Thius.”
Relam nodded morosely. “Yes,” he murmured. “I don’t look forward to that task though.”
Oreius and Yavvis walked over to join Relam, kneeling beside the archers and beginning to bind their wounds. “Sorry about the gash,” Yavvis said to one of them. “I had to be sure you wouldn’t stab us in the back later.”
“It’s all right,” the archer he had spoken to muttered. “You could have just as easily killed us, but you didn’t. I appreciate that, master swordsman.”
“You have his majesty to thank for your life,” Yavvis replied, inclining his head towards Relam. “He was very adamant about not killing unless absolutely necessary.”
“Even with D’Arnlo,” the other archer grunted. “I heard the whole thing. You gave him multiple chances to surrender and he took his own life. None of you are at fault for his death.”
“Glad to hear it,” Relam said, smiling. “Would you be willing to testify that to the Assembly?”
“Anything for the man that spared our lives,” the archer replied, bowing slightly from his sitting position. “Not that we deserved it. We were fools to follow D’Arnlo and try to kill you. But I guess obedience is sort of drilled into us at this point. We didn’t even question his orders.”
“We’ll have to do something about that,” Relam said drily. “But there are other things to attend to first. We need to restore order in the Citadel and count the dead and get help for the wounded.”
As they were talking, the door to the stairwell crashed open. Relam whirled, drawing his sword and preparing to defend himself, but it was just Cevet and Narin, Jatt and Knet trailing behind.
“You’re all right!” Cevet crowed.
“And D’Arnlo’s dead,” Narin said quietly. “We saw him fall. That’s not something I’ll soon forget.”
“Yes,” Relam agreed. “He took his own life. I thought about offering to spare him and just hold him in the Eyrie tower forever, but before I could make the offer-”
“It’s better this way,” Oreius broke in. “It’s finished now, and in the past. If you had just imprisoned him, there would always be the chance of him escaping.”
“I suppose,” Relam said, shrugging. “Still, it was a terrible thing that happened.”
“Not as terrible as what D’Arnlo intended to happen,” Narin countered. “He killed your mother, possibly your father, and then tried to kill you. The entire royal family, assassinated so that he could take the throne and remake the kingdom to his liking.”
“That’s the thing,” Relam said, looking around at the others. “We still don’t know if he killed my father. We never asked, and he never confessed to it.”
“Who else could have?” Yavvis asked, glaring down at the crumpled figure far below.
“A great many people,” Oreius replied grimly.
“Maybe my father knows,” Cevet suggested. “If it was one of D’Arnlo’s agents, I mean.”
“Maybe,” Relam agreed doubtfully. “Do you know how much your father knew of D’Arnlo’s schemes?”
“Not sure,” Cevet said, shrugging. “But he seems to have been pretty high up in the effort. Unfortunately.”
“I just don’t understand why he did it,” Knet said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Your father was never, well, perfect, but I never would have thought him capable of treason.”
“Neither would I,” Relam murmured.
Cevet scowled. “He liked power,” he said darkly. “He loved lording over the Assembly. Maybe he viewed co-ruling the kingdom as the ultimate position.”
They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Relam looked around, trying to find a way to move on from this topic, and realized that armed members of the city guard and palace guard were hurrying towards the Citadel from multiple directions. Apparently, the battle had finally drawn the attention of the rest of the city.
“It looks like reinforcements have arrived,” he said abruptly, gesturing to the River Road. “We’d best go and let them in. Yavvis, can you get us down to the entrance hall?”
“Of course,” the sword master said, moving towards the stair well.
“Good. Narin, while we’re doing that gather any of the officials in the Citadel you trust and start trying to get this place under control. You are the Master of the Citadel for now.”
“We’ll go with him,” one of the archers said, standing gingerly. “Might help if the others see Citadel guards on your side now that the battle is over.”
“And we can act as witnesses, confirm that a new Master of the Citadel has been named,” the other added.
“Good thinking,” Oreius agreed. “Do you have any weapons?”
“No.”
“One of you, take D’Arnlo’s sword,” Oreius directed. “And you, scavenge one from the first dead guard we come to.”
“Yes, sir,” the guards replied immediately.
Relam looked at them curiously. “What are your names, soldiers?”
“Pike, sir,” the first replied, dipping his bald head slightly.
“Ross, your majesty,” the other guard, who was rather shorter than normal height, added.
Relam studied their faces, memorizing every detail. Then, he nodded. “You will be remembered,” he told them. “Help us clear up this mess, and we’ll forget about those arrows you shot at us.”
“Thank you, your majesty,” Pike said, bowing low.
