You groan audibly, and shake the last vestige of unconsciousness away. The buzz of conversation in the room dies and you feel your mother squeeze your hand in affection.
Mustering what royal dignity you can, you raise yourself to sitting. "I'm fine, the palace healers have done their work well."
One such healer speaks up. "Your wounds were thankfully superficial in large part, there was little that needed doing. You will be sore and maybe a little weak for a day or two, but on the whole fine."
You nod in thanks, and turn your attention to the King. "Father, do you think we can talk about my assailants?"
Your Father nods solemnly. "I think we ought to have fewer bodies around, my son is healed and warded, and those here to see him well have seen him. So begone." There is some muttering, but the room is mostly silent as the varied nobles and palace attendants shuffle out of the room. Ritalia lingers briefly, but your father gives her a stern look and her handmaidens escort her away. Soon, left in the room are your parents, Barick, the court mage Arekmar, and Sir Gerald. When the door to your chamber is firmly closed, your father begins to speak to you. "You've only been out a few hours. Fortunatly when you entered Barick into the tournament he had the foresight to hire men to watch your back. If he hadn't you would have probably been killed. Without Barick or the knights of the crown to protect you during the tourney the assassins couldn't have picked a better time."
You cut in at that. "Yes, the assassins, what about them? Do we know anything about them? Did we capture any?" To some degree, you feel fear. You've never been in real danger before, and your first brush with it has been sobering.
Sir Gerald's eyes are cold, his features hard. "The mercenary who rescued you left none alive, save for one who may have escaped. Of the dead we know that one was a palace servant, a lowborn man who had been in the service of the royal family for over a decade and a half. The woman who lured you is a member of a landless noble family, one who fell at the end of the last dynasty; she and her brother dissapeared nearly a month ago. She's been killed, but her brother may be involved."
Your father, raises the broken pin. His mouth drawn tight, holding back a hint of a snarl. "They brought varied weapons, of different kinds and materials. They couldn't know what weapons might work around the spells of the palace wardens, but that they used this weapon against you, a golden pin, is a grievous insult." This particular reference is lost on you, but your father explains. "It's a relatively well kept secret, but your great grandfather killed the last Aikeen king in his sleep. He stabbed him in the throat with a golden pin much like this one."
Arekmar takes over at that, as he speaks it becomes clear he's the most level and calm person in the room. "The number of people who have access to this information is small, which has disturbing implications. Either someone within the inner circle of the royal family is rather loose with royal secrets, or is personally involved. It's possible this is a coincidence, but unlikely."
Author
Topic: Prince: of Lords and Sorcerers (Read 63866 times)