The Gates of Winter - Mark Anthony [166]
Which means he already knows who killed Ivalaine. But how can that be?
She didn't know. But there was one thing she did know. “We have to go talk to Prince Teravian. I know she tried to kill him, but in her mind Ivalaine was protecting him, and now she's dead. Shemal is somewhere around the castle—she might even be inside it. We have to warn him he's in grave danger.”
However, when they reached Teravian's chamber, they found the door guarded by Sai'el Ajhir, who refused them admittance. After the second attempt on the prince's life, no one was being allowed in to see him.
“You don't understand, my lord,” Aryn said, her frustration so great she shook with it. “We must see the prince. We have to tell him that—” She bit her tongue. What would Ajhir say if she told him a Necromancer, a being of legend, was lurking about the castle? “—I have to talk to him before he leaves.”
“You may speak to him on the morrow, my lady,” Ajhir said, “before he sets out on the journey north.”
That wasn't good enough. Tomorrow could be too late. If Shemal could enter a locked dungeon cell unseen, what was to stop her from stealing into Teravian's chamber?
“Please, my lord,” Lirith said in a calm voice, gliding forward. “Sareth and I will wait outside, but surely you will not deny entrance to Lady Aryn. She cannot possibly represent a threat to the prince. She is to be his wife.”
Ajhir's dark face was proud and imperturbable. “Is to be, but is not yet. And before this day, would you have said Queen Ivalaine, at whose own court he was fostered, would have posed a threat to him? Forgive me—I know you care for the prince—but I cannot let any of you pass. I have my orders.”
“Whose orders?” Sareth said. “The king's?”
Ajhir crossed muscular arms over his chest. “I have made myself clear. No one shall enter the prince's chamber this night.” A smile flickered across his stern face. “None except for one, as Vathris knows.”
They implored the southerner for several more minutes, but it was no use.
“Well, that was strange,” Lirith said, pouring wine for all of them in her chamber.
Aryn accepted a cup in trembling hands. This day was awful beyond all fathoming. All the same, something told her it was not over yet.
“Very strange,” Sareth said. He touched his wounded cheek, winced, and took a sip of his wine. “It's admirable that Ajhir wishes to protect the prince, but under whose authority is he doing so? He made no mention of the king.”
Aryn sipped her wine. “And there was something else he said that was peculiar—how no one would be admitted to the prince's room, save for one. What was that supposed to mean?”
Lirith slumped into a chair. “I have no ideas. Save that it seems to have something to do with the Warriors. ‘As Vathris knows,' he said.”
“Maybe I should do a bit of asking around,” Sareth said, setting down his cup. “I've made a few friends with some of the men of Vathris in the castle. A couple even owe me favors.”
Lirith gave him a sharp look. “Really?”
The Mournish man gave her a sly grin. “Let's just say I've been lucky at dice.”
“And luckier still I haven't caught you gambling,” Lirith said, her eyes narrowing. “Losing only costs you gold; winning might cost you a knife in your back.”
“I'll be careful,” Sareth said, then headed out the door.
The two women sat in silence, bathed only in the light of the fire. There was no need to speak; both had been shattered by the death of Queen Ivalaine.
After a while it occurred to Aryn that supper was likely being served in the great hall. She knew she should go; it would be her last chance to dine with the king, for tomorrow he would set out on the journey north. Only she had no appetite, and she couldn't shake the feeling that something was going to happen before the Warriors could leave, something terrible. She stared into the fire, hoping for a shard of the Sight as Lirith had. However, though she stared until her eyes were dry and