The Rebel Assassin

Chapter 5: The Weight of a Sword

Luca stared up at Certus and tried not to look as uncertain as he felt. "The princess has recommended me for the position?"

Certus looked at him, or perhaps glared at him. It was hard to tell the difference. "She isn't recommending you, she's appointing you."

"Shouldn't the Sage..."

"The Sage is in disgrace. He won't be making any decisions for a while."

Luca swallowed nervously. He'd thought he was in disgrace. After all, he had been in charge of the fort when the prison break happened. He'd all but opened up the gates to Joshua himself. But so far no one seemed to blame him — which only made him more nervous. When would he face the consequences?

"I need an answer today, Laycreek. The auxiliary guard can't function without a captain indefinitely."

Luca scanned the room, stalling. Certus, surrounded by paperwork at one end of the office. Him, all alone, on the other side. He could barely stomach this meeting, let alone stepping into Joshua's shoes for real. How could he do that? How could anyone? Joshua had had a reputation, one he'd earned, one whoever succeeded him would have to live up to. Luca may not have known what happened to Joshua when he left, or what exactly had gone down during the prison break, but he knew that.

Certus sighed. "Take the job."

"What?" Luca was jerked out of his thoughts. Certus's exasperation command echoed all too closely Joshua's recommendation months back, when Luca was offered the position at the fort. That had been terrible advice.

"I said, take the job. The princess wants you to have it, and trust me, you want to make her happy. You'll have the old captain's second in command to help you. You won't have to do everything yourself, just wear a nice uniform and show up at official events." To his credit, Certus managed not to sneer to much.

So he wasn't being offered the job because he was right for it. That was mostly a relief, knowing they didn't expect what he couldn't give. But that also meant there was something going on behind this, and as always, his best guess was that Irina had something to do with it.

But Certus hadn't mentioned Irina, only the princess. What was going on?

He nodded slowly. "I accept, sir. Thank you for this honor. Please thank the princess for her consideration as well."

"You may thank her yourself. There will be formal dinner tomorrow to announce the decision, as well as the news that the Englian ambassador will make a full recovery."

"Good news all around," Luca remarked politely, but they both grimaced with distaste.

"Better news," Certus said in a more confidential voice, "I heard he'll be leaving as soon as he is well enough to travel."

"He doesn't appreciate Solangian hospitality?" Luca joked.

"Not when it comes with a broken rib, apparently."

They shared the only comradely moment they had ever had together in silence, and then Certus sighed. "Well. Any questions?"

"No," Luca said, realizing he had already found his answers. A formal dinner to show him off — that was the key. It was an open secret that the princess had been consolidating more power around the castle. The fact that she had just appointed her advisor's brother to a very prestigious (and highly scrutinized) position was just another way of sending a message: those who worked with her would be rewarded.

The only question was, what would she do next? Because even Luca, a political failure, knew that after sending a statement that your followers would be rewarded, the next one had to be that your enemies would be punished.

"Better get used to this," Certus said, opening a long, thin case in front of him. On the rich velvet inside lay a sword. Luca recognized its ostentatious hilt immediately; it was the ceremonial Auxiliary Captain's sword, the one Joshua wore often but used rarely. "It's not for practicing with in the training yards, of course, but make sure you can handle it or you'll look like an idiot the first time you're asked to use it. And wear it at all times that you aren't wearing training rags or sleeping clothes. It's a symbol, and you have to own it."

"Understood." He held out his hands and Certus placed the sword across his palms more gently than Luca had ever seen him handle anything. It was a moment he knew he'd remember forever, taking the sword of a man he had thought was his friend and who turned out to be a stranger, and promising with hallow words to take his place. And yet... the sword felt different now. He had held it before, holding it for Joshua or handing it to him, once even going through a few practice paces with it under Joshua's watchful eye. Perhaps it was lighter. Maybe the universe was trying to tell him, silently, that the burden he was accepting was lighter than it appeared.

He wrapped his fingers around the sheath and bowed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The delegation left Maenar at twilight. It was safer to travel at night when their party consisted of a rogue Guardian, a known assassin, and several rebels.

Morane had hugged Nemia goodbye — Joshua saw them, exchanging their last words with a quiet kind of fierceness before Morane moved on, grasping her brother's arm, joking with her friends.

Joshua didn't have that kind of sendoff, but he was surprised that many people did stop by to say goodbye before he left the Court. Assassins didn't tend to linger emotionally, but they said it was a shame, that he'd been back for such a short time, and wished him luck.

It was as much as he'd thought he was going to get, until he turned to take a last look at Maenar before it disappeared in the night behind them.

Roman stood on top of the wall, looking after them. The distance was too far to see his face, but the wind ruffled his hair and the last bit of remaining light sparked on the sword Joshua had given him just a few days before — a sword with Lijah's hilt and the blade of the ceremonial Auxiliary Captain's sword. As Joshua looked at him, he raised one hand to wave goodbye, and the purple sky around them began to fill with stars.