Still caught up in her memories, Karigan didn’t appear to note Zachary’s anger on her behalf. “He wished to show me that this tomb was, in fact, more a prison. The wraith, he told me, was once a living man, a favorite of Mornhavon’s, granted an unending existence in return for his servitude. Telagioth wanted to impress upon me that many things from the past are reawakening.”

Karigan turned in her chair to more directly face Zachary. “Excellency, he asked me to tell you the following.” And in what Laren liked to call “messenger voice,” Karigan recited the message as close to the original as possible, just as she had been trained. “He said that the passage of Eletians through your lands is peaceful, that they merely watch. Sacoridia lies in the immediate path of anything that should pass through the D’Yer Wall. He said you must turn your attention there, and not to seek out Eletia. Eletia shall parley with you when the time is deemed appropriate.”

“The D’Yers now watch the wall,” Zachary said. Anger still lingered in his eyes. “The immediate threat has been to the north. I do not trust these Eletians.”

“For good reason,” Laren murmured, thinking of Shawdell who had sought to tear down the D’Yer Wall.

“They did help us, sire,” Ansible reminded them. “If they had not come, who knows what that wraith might have wrought upon the survivors? The fact the evil thing fled the Eletians ought to say something to the good of them, and I’ve already spoken of their aid to us in the aftermath of the battle.”

“There are varying degrees of good,” Colin said, “and their contempt in crossing our borders without seeking the king’s leave says another thing about them. To say they will parley with the king when they deem appropriate is cavalier in the extreme.”

“All of this could have been avoided,” Major Everson said, slicing a wedge of cheese off a wheel, “if Lady Penburn had had the sense to listen to that bounder.”

“This is not the time for judgments,” Zachary said, “but mourning. She followed her best instincts.”

“Which I supported,” Ansible growled. “I supported her decision to use that clearing. It is easy to say aught else after the fact.”

Everson put up his hands. “No offense intended, Captain.”

The truth was that Lady Penburn’s death was a blow to Zachary when so many supporters among the old bloods had perished at his brother’s hands. Now Penburn Province, Laren’s own home province, would have a new lord-governor, the lady’s first-born son. Where would his loyalties lie?

“What became of the bounder?” Colin asked. “It may be useful to question him.”

“Died of his wounds,” Karigan said. The haunted look returned to her eyes. Then she gazed directly at Major Everson. “The decision to camp in the clearing was unfortunate for the delegation, but even if we had not, it wouldn’t have prevented the wraith’s escape.”

A silence built up in the throne room again. Zachary stood at the end of the table gazing down at Ansible and Karigan. The anger left him and something like pity softened his features.

“We have detained you here long enough,” he said. “There is time enough to answer questions later after you have had sufficient rest from your terrible journey.”

Ansible started to protest, but Zachary cut him off. “You have done your duty this night, Captain.”

As Karigan and Ansible slowly made their way out of the throne room, Laren watched the king watching after them. Another monarch might not prove so compassionate, instead retaining them to be questioned long into the night. She could read the concern etched into his features as he watched them. This compassion was one reason Laren was so fiercely loyal to him. She would fight to the death to ensure his reign continued.

She would also, in her role as advisor, see to it that this same compassion never jeopardized the peace of Sacoridia, or Zachary himself.

Laren wished to follow Karigan out. She wanted to question her further without the others present, but she couldn’t leave yet, and of course the king had excused Karigan so she might find rest—not get interrogated by her curious captain. It was just that she sensed something had been left unsaid, and it nagged at her. She sighed. No doubt Mara would see that Karigan was comfortably settled into her room at barracks.

As if to contradict her thoughts, Karigan reappeared at the throne room entrance. She strode back toward them with purpose, now unhindered by having to keep in step with Captain Ansible.

“Forgive me, Excellency,” she said, bowing her head. “I meant to leave some things in Captain Mapstone’s care.”

“There is no reason to ask forgiveness, Rider,” he said.

“Thank you.” Karigan rounded the table and stood before Laren. She rummaged in her message satchel and withdrew an object which she clasped tightly in her hand.

“Captain,” she said, “this was Ereal’s.” She pressed cold metal into Laren’s palm. Ereal’s brooch. The gold of it winked in the lamplight.

“She died trying to bring my sword to me,” Karigan said. “She was always watching out for me during the journey. Two arrows took her. Even while she lay dying, she tried to ‘carry’ the sword to me.”

The expressions of the others, except Zachary, were baffled. They could not see the brooch as a Rider could, nor would they know that Ereal’s special ability had been moving things with her mind. Laren swallowed as she looked at the brooch cradled in her hand, her throat constricted. She saw also what it cost Karigan to do this. She had gone pale, fighting memories.