Free King by R.J. Larson Page A

no more bloodshed! He snapped a look at Dan. “Is the prophet here today?”
    “No, sir. Lessons are tomorrow. She’s with her mother this morning.”
    “Good.” Akabe sighed his relief, refusing to think of Ela beyond her importance to this temple. “We’ll hire guards to protect you and your men. Until then, wear weapons as you work. That blood could very well have been yours, Roeh—bless the Infinite for His protection!”
    “Bless Him, indeed,” Dan mumbled, staring as the guards lifted their bleeding prisoner. “I’ll tell my men about the weapons.”
    “Thank you.” Akabe turned, glimpsing Caitria’s approach.
    She faltered, paling at the blood and the now-unconscious prisoner. “Majesty . . . sir . . .”
    Aware of Dan Roeh’s watchful gaze, Akabe gripped Caitria’s hand. Was she turning faint? “It’s not safe for you here, lady. Another time, perhaps. Where are your guards?”
    “I—I ran from them, sir.”
    Akabe looped an arm around his wife and swung her away. “We’re leaving. For now.”

    “Sir,” Faine mourned amid the hastily assembled royal council, “bad news. It seems the Thaenfall family was involved. They are Atean. They worship the goddess and wear her coils.”
    “Not the entire family,” Akabe argued. “My wife hasn’t mentioned the goddess Atea to me. And she has no marks of Atean worship.” Only bruises from her lord-father.
    “Nevertheless . . .” Faine reddened, betraying his annoyance. “Forgive me, Majesty, but we cannot trust the queen.” Faine removed a money pouch from his belt and overturned it on the council table, deliberate and dramatic. Two rings spilled out amid the jangling of silver coins. “Majesty, these are signets taken from the suicides this morning.”
    Akabe winced inwardly. Of three attackers, only one escaped. The other two knifed themselves. “Who were they?”
    Faine offered the larger signet to Akabe. “This was worn by Ison of Deerfeld. A Thaenfall cousin. His comrade was one Ezry Morside, a landholder of Deerfeld’s properties. Both have remained away from court as our opponents.”
    Chilled, Akabe accepted the signet. How could Caitria not recognize her own cousin?
    Before he could respond, Lord Faine warned, “As Ison’s death reveals, the Thaenfalls are known for their loyalty to the goddess Atea. It may be that they’re incapable of honoring you as their king. Remember, sir, the Sacred Books note, ‘Those who hate the Infinite are corrupt. Their actions are evil and they know no good.’ Be sure of those you trust, sir.”
    “I loathe living my life suspicious of everyone!”
    “Majesty,” Trillcliff argued quietly, “certain people must be suspected. Your wife might be blameless. But if she ever plots against your life—if you live—you will be unable to save her.”
    Akabe clenched the traitor’s signet in his fist. Might his wife become part of a Thaenfall conspiracy? He must talk to Caitria.

    Firelight glimmered off the traitor’s signet in Akabe’s palm.
    Sitting in the chair beside him in his silent bedchamber, Caitria shook her head. “No, thank you, sir. I’ve no need to inspect the ring. I’ve seen that seal in family records—though I didn’t recognize my cousin.”
    Was that the truth? Akabe studied his wife. “How could you not recognize your own cousin?”
    “As I told you this morning, my lord-father kept me mostly secluded from my family after my mother died. And I’m the youngest in my family. With the exception of Cyril, I hardly know my own siblings, much less some second cousin. Ison wasn’t one of my father’s hunting comrades.” She eyed the signet in Akabe’s hand again. “He tried to kill you.”
    “Yes.” Akabe hesitated, hating his next question. “Also, I must ask . . . do you and your family worship Atea?”
    Caitria’s expression tightened. “The Thaenfalls have followed her for generations. Some more, some less.”
    “And you?”
    She shrugged, but Akabe