Realm of Light - Deborah Chester [132]
An urgent knocking on the door interrupted them. The door opened without permission, in itself a grave breach of orders, and a captain appeared, saluting smartly.
Albain roared in fury and kicked over his chair. “What in blazes do you mean, coming in here like this? Get out! I’ll have your rank for this, you fool!”
The captain turned white, but he didn’t flinch. “My lord, I am sent by the general. You must come at once.”
“The devil I will. Get out!”
“My lord.” The captain swallowed hard. “My lord, the imperial army is outside our gates. You must come at once, or we fear they will break in.”
“What?” Albain stared for a moment, then blinked and seemed to recover from his astonishment. “What the blazes are they doing here? They are supposed to be headed for Imperia!”
“The general says to tell you they are demanding the empress.”
Silence gripped the room. Elandra felt as though she could not breathe. A smile spread across her face. “At last,” she said in relief. “They have come to offer their support.”
A fearsome scowl creased Albain’s face. Ignoring Elandra, he went on glaring at the captain. “Is it true? Have they come to support her? Or arrest her?”
The captain’s gaze darted to Elandra even as he shook his head. “I know not—”
“Bah!” Muttering curses, Albain headed for the door. Glancing at each other, the other warlords fell in behind him.
At the doorway, however, Albain paused and looked back at Caelan. “Protect her,” he said. “Until we know where they stand, be prepared to get her out of sight.”
Caelan nodded, but Elandra stepped forward. “What do you mean? What are you talking about?”
Albain swept on without answering, his expression very grim indeed.
Elandra turned on Caelan. “They would not dare arrest me!” she said indignantly, incensed by her father’s assumption. “Father is too suspicious. The Lord Commander has come to give us his aid, and if Father angers him—”
“I have heard the talk,” Caelan said, breaking in. “Remember what the Thyzarenes said about a reward for you?”
Elandra shook her head. “They would not dare!”
“No? And Kostimon thought that Tirhin would not dare betray him, either.”
Elandra felt cold. Her hand stole to her throat. “Then we are finished,” she whispered. “If the army has turned against us—”
“My guess is that Tirhin wants you—”
“You mean to kill me?”
“No, Elandra,” Caelan said in gentle rebuke. “Kostimon himself gave you lessons in strategy. What do you think?”
She drew away from him, hating the suspicions rising within her. “You are saying that he wants me as a prize? Great Gault, not as a bride!”
Caelan nodded grimly.
“Damn him!” she said in sudden fury, clenching her fists.
“If Tirhin marries you, he will avoid the threat of civil war. It is the neatest solution, from his viewpoint.”
“No!” she shouted, shoving a chair out of her way. “I won’t be handed over like chattel. I won’t!”
“Elandra—”
Blindly she rushed from the room and went running down the long gallery, up the stairs, and outside onto one of the balconies. The bright sunshine made her blink, and she clutched the stone parapet, gazing out at the imperial army surrounding the walls in silent menace.
Elandra stared in disbelief. She had never seen so many soldiers. Their armor and helmets glinted in the sun; their banners flew; they bristled with weapons. The officers on horseback with leopard skins behind their saddles rode back and forth, keeping order. The army stretched up the road as far as she could see, apparently endless, impossible to count. In row after row, they spread from the walls, back to the fields, nearly to the very edge of the jungle.
She could not begin to count them. How many legions? How many tens of thousands of soldiers? From her vantage point she could see a man in resplendent armor, long crimson plumes flowing from his helmet to his shoulders, his cloak glittering with rank stripes, a lion skin behind his saddle, a standard-bearer beside him with the imperial banner flying above the crossed-spears