A World Without Heroes Page 63


“Ascend the royal dais, Lord Jason,” the regent invited. Jason complied.

The regent spoke in a loud voice as he draped the mantle around Jason’s shoulders and presented him with the ring. “Lord Jason of Caberton, you are hereby entrusted with the office of chancellor, making you guardian of the realm and chief advisor to the regent and acting sovereign, Dolan, Duke of Vernasett.”

The crowd cheered enthusiastically.

Copernum stepped forward to clasp Jason’s hand. “Congratulations, lordling,” the former chancellor breathed, smiling kindly. “You will be dead by sunrise.”

Before Jason could even react, the regent took Jason’s hand and raised it as high as he could. “I call for a feast to welcome our brash new chancellor, to be held at the end of the coming week in my banquet hall.” He turned to Jason, speaking for his ears only. “Well done, young man. You demonstrated great poise. We shall meet in private later this afternoon. I look forward to exchanging ideas with you.”

Jason turned and looked for Copernum. The marquess had already departed.

CHAPTER 15

CHANCELLOR

That evening Jason sat alone on a black horsehair love seat, elbows on his knees, chin propped on his hands. He got up and went out to the blue-tiled balcony. Through the dimming twilight he surveyed the city of Trensicourt spread out beneath him, then let his gaze drift to the shadowed farmland below the plateau. Half-seen forms of bats or small birds wheeled and darted in the air below, flickering into view most clearly as they streaked past illuminated windows.

Copernum had vacated his quarters hours after losing the contest, taking his staff and his personal items but leaving most of the furniture. The apartments of the chancellor occupied the upper three floors of one of the castle’s largest towers. The belongings Jason had left in the Upturned Goblet had already been transported to his new bedroom atop the tower.

Jason leaned against the stone balustrade, shivering in response to the chill breeze. Two levels below, in the rooms that now served as his offices, a page, a maid, a cook, a scribe, and two guards all awaited his orders. A bodyguard was stationed outside his bedroom door. None of them had served Copernum, but Jason had no idea how loyal they would prove. They all had been assigned to him by some administrator working under orders from the regent.

Jason studied the diverse buildings, the watch fires along the city wall, and the cultivated land beyond the wall atop the plateau. How could he be second in command of this sprawling kingdom? A few weeks ago his biggest worries had been getting decent grades and perfecting his curveball. He never would have imagined himself achieving anything like this.

Abandoning the view, Jason trudged to his bed, a sumptuous monstrosity that could easily sleep six. A pile of embers cast a warm red glow from the fireplace. He ran both hands through his hair. He would die tonight, if Copernum kept his promise. The threat could have been an idle exaggeration meant only to agitate him, but Copernum had sounded eerily certain.

Despite the soaring altitude of his accommodations, despite strong walls and solid doors, despite the multiple guards keeping watch, Jason had never felt more vulnerable. Up until last night Copernum had lived in these quarters and slept in this room. He could provide assassins with keys and a thorough description of how best to gain access.

To imitate a slumbering form, Jason arranged pillows under the fancy coverlet fashioned from soft rabbit pelts. The deep mattress was generously stuffed with down. No bed had ever beckoned more deliciously, but he crouched down and slithered underneath, bringing a pillow and a pair of blankets. The bed stood high enough that he had several inches of extra space above him as he lay on his back, one blanket beneath him, the other covering him. A fabric skirt shielded the space beneath the bed from view.

Jason lay staring up at the underside of the bed, his poniard clutched in one hand. He had never felt so alone. He missed Rachel. Could she be irritating at times? Sure. But she was also smart, and fun, and he knew he could trust her. Seeing her in the throne room had reminded him how much he had grown to rely on her. She had become a real friend. He wished she could have remained with him today.

Earlier that day, after the contest, the regent and his retinue had departed, leaving Jason to be tersely congratulated by Bartley, who notably kept his distance thereafter. The gambling acquaintance in the fancy coat had escorted Jason around the throne room, introducing him to a series of individuals who congratulated him with varying degrees of warmth. From most he got the impression that they did not wish to be seen acting too welcoming. He met counts and countesses, lords and ladies, scholars, poets, musicians, and artists. Names and titles all jumbled together.

Later, during a brief meeting with the regent, Jason had related the threat made by Copernum. Dolan had told him to be careful, and had explained that such threats were a burden of all men who held high offices. Jason had also conveyed the threat to Norval, his bodyguard, a solid man with a thick mustache, who had promised to remain vigilant at his door all night.

Jason had watched for an opportunity to slip away from the castle, but he had been surrounded by attendants all day, faking his way through meetings until he was delivered to his quarters in the evening. While dwelling in a tall tower held certain protections, it felt as inescapable as a prison.

Under the bed Jason bit his lip softly. He had hoped for communication from Nicholas or Rachel, but none had arrived. So now he had to survive the night. Alone. Hopefully, the dark hours would pass quietly. He promised himself he would find a way to escape his new job in the morning.

His thoughts turned to home. What were his parents doing right now? Had they figured out how to care for Shadow? He expected his dog missed him as much as anyone. What was Matt doing right now? Or Tim? Jason wondered if they had grown used to not having him around. He didn’t feel like his whole self without them. He wished he could text them or call them up. What if he died tonight? How long would it take everyone to forget him?

The blankets began to feel very relaxing. It had been a long day, full of stress and confusion. He yawned, and shook his head to clear it. Soon he was slowly blinking; then he experimented with closing his eyes temporarily, just to rest them briefly. Sleep overtook him swiftly.

He awoke in the dark, certain he had heard a noise, feeling momentarily disoriented. His knife remained in his hand. He almost sat up before he remembered he was under the bed. Now that he was conscious and alert, Jason heard nothing. By the faintness of the glow against the material of the skirt he could tell that the embers had burned low. He waited, senses straining. All remained silent. Perhaps he had imagined the sound.

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