Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [103]
His hand moved, and he shook his head. “The dead can rest,” he whispered. “I have too much to do.”
“Everything can wait until you are better.”
His eye opened to glare at her. “Let us have honesty, not these damned lies,” he said, wheezing. “I am dying, damn it. You know that.”
Her lips trembled, but when she answered her voice was miraculously steady. “Yes. I have been told.”
“Aye. Then act sensible. Will you fight for the throne?”
His anger had steadied her. With more calm, she said, “Yes. Caelan and I want the empire.”
Albain frowned, and she hastily explained, “Caelan is the man I love. A woman may choose her second husband, and I have chosen him. His destiny is very great. He is the only man who can possibly defeat the darkness that is coming.”
Albain’s expression did not change. She could not tell whether he accepted what she’d said or was angered by it.
“You move quickly,” he said.
She bit her lip, wanting his blessing. If she had that, she could ignore everyone else. “I met him first in my dreams when I went to be trained in the Penestrican House of Women. I did not know his name then or where to find him. We are destined, that is all I know. He has saved my life too many times to mention. He brought me safely from the palace when the Madruns would have killed me. He rescued me from the realm of shadows, where Lord Sien sought to trap me. Now he has brought me here, to you, Father.”
Pain shadowed Albain’s face. “You knew this man in the palace of your husband?”
Embarrassment filled her. “I was faithful to Kostimon,” she said sharply. “Though he was not faithful to me.”
Albain swallowed a cough. “Not required.”
“Of him?” she said bitterly. “No, the man is always free, though the woman lives under rules like chains.”
“Don’t whine of your life. You are empress.”
“Yes, I am. I would ask you to meet Caelan, Father. Later, for a moment, to judge him for yourself.”
Albain closed his eyes and said nothing. She waited, wondering if her defiance had been too much for his scant strength.
But it seemed he was only resting. A few moments later, he opened his eyes again. “Who are his people?”
She wanted to laugh with relief. Albain might think he was still withholding judgment, but such a question gave him away. “He is a warrior, Father. He—”
“Who are his people?”
She stopped and frowned. A dozen convoluted explanations ran through her mind, but when she looked into her father’s pain-riddled face she knew she must give him only the truth. “He comes from Trau,” she said.
“That one!” Albain whispered. “I have heard of that one.”
Elandra hesitated, then continued. “His father was a healer, the most renowned in the empire at one time. But Caelan has been touched by the Choven. They have given him his own destiny, and he is to—”
“Later,” Albain whispered, his voice fading.
She picked up his rough hand and kissed it. “I’m sorry. I’ve stayed too long and tired you. I’ll let you sleep now.”
“Elandra.”
His voice stopped her. She hurried back to his side. “Yes, Father?”
“Your plans.”
“Oh, not now. You’re too tired—”
He silenced her protest with a glare, then let his eyelids fall shut again.
She stood beside his bed like a schoolgirl and said quickly, “I plan to return to Imperia and confront Tirhin. Caelan and I need the army you promised me. With your men, it’s possible we can persuade the imperial troops to join us, if they have not already scattered. I want the full support of the Gialtan warlords as well as the benefit of your secret alliances with warlords of the adjacent provinces.”
He blinked, and she smiled. “Yes, I know about those. Kostimon’s informant network was thorough. As long as you were loyal to him through the bindings of our marriage contract, he felt your private alliances only served to strengthen his base of power.”
“Hell’s damnation,” Albain said, looking disconcerted. “What else?”
Elandra drew a deep breath. “I ask for your treasury, the contents of your armory,