Inheritance by Simon Brown Read Free Book Online Page A

brother’s life, and that of my constable.”
    Berayma said no more; he recognized the tone in his mother’s voice, that sharp edge of righteous anger that always made nobles, courtiers, soldiers, husbands, and children shut their mouths against any argument with their queen.
    Usharna looked around at the others gathered by the dais, including Orkid and Dejanus. “Any one else volunteering to comment on my actions last night?” Some shook their heads, most just dropped their gaze. “Then the day’s business is over.” She beckoned to Harnan. “Meet me in my sitting room. We have correspondence to complete.”
    The secretary, a thin reedy man who looked barely strong enough to support his own weight, nodded, packed up his papers and pens, and followed Usharna and her ladies-in-waiting as they left the throne room. Dejanus brought up the rear. All talk stopped as the court, acting as one, bowed out the queen.
    When she was gone, Berayma strode to Kumul. “It is your fault, Constable. I have been told that you allowed my brother to leave the palace at night and stroll around taverns and hotels at his own discretion, inviting the very sort of attack visited on him last night!”
    Kumul said nothing. He knew better than to answer back to one of the royal family, especially Berayma who was such a stickler for court protocol.
    “How can we trust the man in charge of the Royal Guards to protect the palace if he cannot even protect one small, irresponsible youth?” Berayma pressed.
    Kumul, impassive, stared straight ahead.
    Lynan, who was almost as afraid of Berayma as he was of the queen, wanted to speak up in Kumul’s defense, but his tongue seemed glued to the roof of his mouth.
    Berayma, however, had finished his public dressing down of the constable and stalked off to join a group of his friends from the Twenty Houses who were loitering nearby and enjoying the show. Lynan thought they looked ridiculous in their silk tights and decorated codpieces, a fashion only lately come to the court from Haxus in the north.
    Lynan was about to move to Kumul, to apologize, when he was confronted by his sister Areava. “Is this true?” she demanded.
    “Sister?”
    “Don’t feign ignorance, Lynan, I know you far too well.” Almost as tall as Berayma, but with the golden hair their mother had once possessed, Areava made an imposing spectacle, and when her face was pinched in fury as it was now, she reminded Lynan of stories of the beautiful mountain witches who ate the faces of lost travelers.
    Before he could answer, Olio joined them and said to his sister: “It is unfair to b—b-blame Lynan for the actions of thieves, Areava. It was not his fault. And as our m-m-mother said, the cripple she helped last night was owed something b—b-by this family for p—p-previous service.”
    “I do not question our mother’s actions, but Lynan’s,” she said to Olio, but not harshly, since she loved him above all others. She glared again at Lynan. “Well?” she insisted.
    “I did not mean to place anyone in danger, least of all the queen,” he said meekly.
    “You are a thoughtless boy, Lynan. One day someone will pay for your self-centeredness.”
    “I am sure you are right.” Lynan could not help himself; before he could catch the words, they were out.
    Areava acted as if she had been slapped across the face. She looked at her half-brother almost with distaste. “You assume too much from your position,” she said tightly and stormed off.
    “What did she mean by that?” Lynan asked Olio.
    Olio shrugged. “I had b-b-better follow her and calm her down b-b-before she insults some visiting dignitary.”
    Left alone, Lynan felt he had come off badly from the morning’s events, not unusual in his experience of court life. He remembered Kumul and went to him.
    “I’m sorry for what Berayma said to you. It was all my fault, not yours or Ager’s or the queen’s.”
    “Berayma was only demonstrating his concern for Her