The Bloodbound (10 page)

The king leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. He seemed to be avoiding her gaze, as though he were having trouble keeping himself in check. “Who was he?”

“We don't know. I doubt we ever will.”

“But we know who sent him.”

Alix hesitated. “Perhaps.”

“Say it,” he commanded softly, still staring at the ceiling. “I want to hear you say it.”

She sighed. “Most likely he was sent by Tomald.”

“My brother.” Erik's features were set in stone. “Commander of the White Wolves, and prince of the realm. My own blood.” The bitterness grew with each word.

Raibert Green had been wrong. Erik was not putting on a brave face. Not this time. He was freely showing Alix the depth of his pain, and it was beyond fathoming. Tomald had been his only remaining family. Alix couldn't imagine how it felt to have someone so close turn on him so completely. Even his childhood memories must feel corrupted.

“Did you know I had a twin once?”

Alix started. “No, I didn't. What happened to him?”

“Her,” Erik corrected. “Stillborn. I'm not surprised you didn't know—Father forbade anyone to speak of it. It wouldn't do for people to get the idea that the royal seed was somehow defective.” He took a long sip of his wine, upending his cup before refilling it. “Tom and I were never close, and by the time I was ten or so, I realised we never would be. That was a lonely discovery. Even at that age, I wondered how many of my friends loved me for Erik, and how many just wanted the favour of the crown prince. It made it very hard for me to let my guard down around anyone. I started to wonder what things would have been like had my sister lived. I was sure we would have been the best of friends.” A brief, haunted smile flickered across his face. “I mourned her for years, for all that I never knew her. And now, suddenly, I find myself mourning her again.”

“I'm sorry.” She couldn't think of anything else to say.

“It's all right. I may have been deceived in my brother, but there are others I know I can rely on. That is some comfort, at least.” He looked over at her at last. “Thank you, Alix.”

“It was my duty.”

“No, not for that alone.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “Thank you for being such a steadying presence through all this. You are a true friend.”

“You're easy to be a friend to.”

He sighed ruefully. “Perhaps that was true once, but now . . . These are complicated times, aren't they? What a shame we weren't friends before all this. Before I was such a gloomy creature, and you a Kingsword. It's terribly delinquent of your brother never to have brought you to court. I would have liked to meet you there. At a ball, perhaps.” He paused, a crooked smile hitching his mouth. “Actually, that is something I would pay to see.”

“What?”

“You, in a ball gown. I'm having a little trouble picturing it, Captain.” His gaze roamed significantly over her armour.

“Well, you can stop trying to picture it right now, Your Majesty,” she said, smiling archly. At that moment, in that grand room, a goblet of wine in her hand and the handsome young king before her, Alix could almost imagine herself back in her old life.

His smile turned wicked. “I'm not sure I can, actually.”

She laughed, feeling some of the tension ease from her shoulders. She'd meant what she said about Erik being easy to get on with. His good nature was infectious, and he never allowed himself to brood for long. Yet there was something tragic in that. Only a few moments ago, he'd been hurting terribly, rolling the taste of his brother's betrayal on his tongue. Suddenly he was joking, flirting, radiating a warmth as golden as his hair. The royal mask was back, slipping over him so smoothly it was as if it had been there all along.
It must have taken him a lifetime to learn this skill
, Alix thought sadly. She wanted to tell him that it was unnecessary, that he could lean on her if he wanted to, that she wasn't afraid of his pain. But she couldn't. It wasn't her place. Not yet.

For now, all she could do was bask in Erik's sunshine, and hope that he found at least a measure of the solace that she did.

A
lix rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, willing her head to stop throbbing. It felt like someone was mining for ore in her skull—someone tiny and vindictive and armed with a very sharp pickaxe. She would have traded her bloodblade for a single glass of cold water. She'd stayed up late drinking with Erik, which was unwise on many levels. The level that concerned her most at the moment was that of the floor, which seemed suspiciously uneven. The king, for his part, looked bright and shiny as always. Alix found that considerably less charming this morning than she had last night.

Focus, foolish girl. This is a very serious matter.

She realised that Erik and Raibert were staring at her expectantly. She sat up straighter. “Sorry. Pardon?”

Erik's mouth twitched. “Are you quite well, Captain? You seem a little out of sorts.”

“I am quite well, Your Majesty, thank you for asking.” She locked eyes with him, daring him to keep it up. She didn't care if he
was
king, he could bloody well wipe that glint out of his eye.

If Raibert noticed this silent exchange, he was too well bred to let on. “I asked if you agree that we should increase the size of the king's detail.”

“I do.”

He nodded. “I thought so, but it will come at a cost in terms of secrecy. It is hard to be discreet with an armed escort.”

“I don't see that as a problem,” Alix said. “Not anymore.”

Lord Green frowned. “Oh?”

“There's no point in continuing the deception, assuming we were deceiving anyone in the first place. Tomald obviously knows, and he's the one we were trying to keep it from. Now we're only keeping it from the people, and they're our greatest ally. Cloaking ourselves in shadow lets Tomald act against us with impunity. But if the people know their king lives, further treachery won't go unnoticed.”

Raibert leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. “I see your logic. But if we go public with news of His Majesty's survival, it will force Tomald into a corner, and that will make him even more unpredictable. He might do worse than send assassins.”

“Maybe,” Alix said, “but I doubt even Tomald would risk a full-fledged attack on the rightful King of Alden. No one would dare to back such an audacious play. It would be the quickest way to scare off potential allies.” Raibert eyed her appraisingly, and Alix couldn't help smiling. “We Blacks may be uncouth, my lord, but we're not completely ignorant of politics, gossip notwithstanding.”

Raibert laughed. “Such gossip never came from a Green, I assure you.” Alix doubted that. The Greens were the oldest and most venerable of the Banner Houses, and the Blacks were second only to the Golds for scorn. Alix would have given her right arm to restore her family's name to anything like the Greens' standing. But she appreciated the thought all the same.

Erik dismissed the idle chatter with a wave. “This is all well and fine, but it hardly qualifies as a plan. So we announce my survival. What then?”

“I don't think we should announce anything, sire,” Alix said. “We should simply drop the secrecy. Let the news spread of its own accord.”

“And then?”

“And then nothing. The next move is his.”

“Why would we willingly give him the initiative?”

Alix suppressed a sigh. He was like a hound with a scent in his nose: fearless, brazen—and likely to send his prey bolting to safety. Fortunately, Raibert Green was older and subtler than his king. “I think I see. By not making a formal announcement, we do not officially challenge Tomald's version of events. That gives us room for compromise, if necessary.”

“Exactly,” Alix said. “We have to leave him room to save face, a way to back down peacefully, or we reduce our options later on. And by letting the news spread without bringing Tomald into it, we also draw attention away from him and put it back on the king, where it belongs. The moment word gets out that the king is at Greenhold, all eyes will shift here. Erroman will cease to be the centre of power, for now at least. Then we don't need to challenge Tomald;
he
must challenge
us
. And he'll have to do it openly, before the eyes of all the realm. He won't be ready to do that right away. He'll need to build up his alliances first. That's one of the reasons we wanted him to think the king was dead—so he wouldn't bother trying to bolster his position. Hopefully, we've bought ourselves some time.”

“It's risky,” Raibert said. “We are counting on Tomald to act rationally. There was a time when I would have expected that of him, but now, I'm not so sure.”

Alix shared that worry. After what happened at Boswyck, she wouldn't have been at all surprised to learn that the Raven was barking mad. But what choice did they have? “It's the best option left to us.”

“Very well,” Erik said, “if this is the best we can do. Fly the royal colours over the gates, and let us see what happens.”

Raibert inclined his head. “As you say, sire.”

“Thank you, Lord Green. That will be all for now.”

Raibert rose and took his leave. Alix stood too, intending to take her place outside the door of the king's sitting room, but Erik held up a hand. “Stay, Alix, please. There's something I would discuss with you.” She sat, feeling uneasy. She had no idea what he was going to say, but somehow she dreaded it anyway. Maybe he saw it on her face, because he smiled. “You are gifted with surpassing good sense. I'm not sure you realise how valuable that is.”

She dropped her gaze demurely. “Thank you.”

“Truly, Alix. You have a keen mind, and you aren't afraid to speak it. Sometimes I wonder if you aren't wasted as my bodyguard.”

“I don't believe that. Besides, if you find value in my advice, what better place for me than by your side?”

“But you must promise me that you won't hesitate to give it, even when things return to normal and we're surrounded by people who don't believe it's your place.”

Alix laughed. “I can promise that easily. Holding my tongue is where I have trouble.”

“Good. Then perhaps I might call upon your wisdom now. What I wish to discuss is a matter of some delicacy.”

“At your pleasure.”

His smile turned wry, as if to say,
You're going to regret saying that
. “You are aware, no doubt, of my prolonged betrothal to Sirin Grey.”

Alix couldn't imagine what Sirin Grey had to do with anything, but presumably she was about to find out. She waited for him to continue.

“I have made something of an art of procrastination where my marriage is concerned, to the delight of gossips everywhere. Some interesting theories have developed to explain my delay. I imagine you've heard a few of them yourself.” He gazed at her steadily as he spoke, as though daring her to look away. Alix forced herself not to react. She would rather leap from the ramparts than have this conversation, but she would do her best not to show it.

“I don't love her,” Erik said flatly. “I never have. And I have no intention of marrying her, not if I can avoid it.”

Unease gave way to mild panic.
Farika's mercy, why is he telling me this?
The king continued to stare at her, giving her no option but to stare back. He seemed almost to relish the impropriety of discussing these private details with her. He could not be oblivious to her discomfort, but for some reason, he was forcing the issue. Alix felt like a trapped animal.

He seemed to be waiting for a reaction. When none was forthcoming, he said, “You wonder why I'm burdening you with this.”

“It's not a burden, Your Majesty, it's just—”

He flinched. “Don't do that. Don't put that distance between us, Alix, not now.”

“I'm sorry,” she said, and she was. Only last night she'd been wishing Erik felt more comfortable letting his guard down with her. Now he was doing just that, and she was squirming like a spoiled courtier. Impulsively, she took his hand. “Truly, I am. Please continue.”

His fingers tightened around hers. “I'm telling you this because . . .” He hesitated.

Alix waited, frozen in the ice blue of his eyes. She saw uncertainty there. He seemed to be searching for words.

Abruptly, he released her hand and sat back. “I think that might be why my brother betrayed me.”

Alix blinked. Whatever she had expected him to say, it wasn't that. “I don't understand. You think Tomald betrayed you because you wouldn't marry Sirin Grey?”

“Because he was afraid that I
would
.” Erik's mouth twisted into a sour smile. “My brother and my betrothed are lovers, you see.”

Alix clamped a hand over her mouth. For a long moment, all she could do was stare, wide-eyed.

That amused him. “I see you are sensitive to the awkward position that puts me in.”

“Lovers? As in . . .”

“As in deeply in love. For years now. Since before our betrothal, in fact. My father was ever a
thoughtful
soul.”

Alix had never heard him sound so caustic. Not that she blamed him. The very thought of it . . . The pain, the tension it must have created between the brothers . . . It was too awful to contemplate. “Did King Osrik know?”

“Oh, no. He was perfectly oblivious. He needed a match for his heir, and Sirin Grey was constantly in his view, since she spent rather a lot of time at the palace. Instead of reflecting on why that might be, he merely congratulated himself on a convenient solution.”

“Merciful Nine . . .”

“Not in this case, I fear.”

“Did you explain it to your father?”

“Of course, as soon as he told me of his decision. But by then it was too late. He'd already spoken to Lord Grey, who was only too happy to have his own issue share the crown. If Father had backed out, he would have made an enemy of the most powerful of the Banner Houses—a dilemma that lingers to this day, else I would have called it off long ago. Lady Grey is as ambitious and powerful as her late husband, and she is determined to see Sirin share the crown, no matter that her daughter doesn't want it. Roswald is just as bad. I have him in my study at least once a month demanding to know why I haven't set a date for my marriage to his sister. With each passing day, it grows more difficult to deny him.”

For a brief moment, Alix almost felt a pang of pity for Tomald White. Almost.
I should have seen that he was getting desperate.
Erik's words that day on the gatehouse tower, as they watched the battle from afar. Now she understood. But still, to go to such extremes . . . “Do you really think that would be enough for your brother to betray you?”

Erik's expression was unreadable. “Have you ever been in love, Alix?”

Her thoughts flashed instinctively to Liam. He was the closest she'd come, but love?
If not love, then what? Why else would you be clawing at the walls of Greenhold, yearning to rush to war?

She didn't have an answer, but Erik didn't wait for one anyway. “They say a man will do anything for love.”

Alix scowled. “Murder his brother? Betray his country?”

“I doubt he sees it that way. Most likely he's concocted some sort of narrative that justifies his behaviour. Tom was always good at that. Whatever road he takes, he convinces himself it's the high road. He always believes he's the hero of the story.”

“I don't give a fraction of a damn what he believes,” Alix hissed, dropping any remaining pretence of propriety. “He left his king and thousands of his own men to be butchered! There's no excusing what he's done.”

Erik smiled faintly. “I won't argue.”

“What about Sirin Grey? Do you think she knows what happened at Boswyck?”

He sighed and looked away. “I've been wondering that myself. I can't believe she would have anything to do with it. Through all of this mess, she more than any of us has put her duty first. She would marry me without hesitation. However much it broke her heart, she would do it. She's told me so a hundred times, and Tom too. It's hard to imagine she would suddenly commit treason. But then, I never would have believed Tom capable of it, either.”

Alix wasn't so sure. The Raven's extreme mood swings were the stuff of legend. She wondered if he'd always been like that, or if it was his troubled heart that made him wild. “For what it's worth, I'm sorry. For all of it.”

He nodded absently. His gaze had grown distant and haunted.
He should be alone
, she thought.
This grief is not for my eyes.
“With your leave, sire,” she said, rising.

“One more thing. I don't wish to cause you pain by bringing this up, but I wanted you to know that I haven't given up on finding Rig. Nor will I leave your family home to be picked over by scavengers. I've dispatched a small guard to Blackhold, to protect whatever might be left. I'm sorry I didn't think of it sooner. As to your brother—we'll find him, Alix, I swear it.”

Tears stung her eyes. “I am grateful, my king.”

Erik nodded, and for a moment it looked like he might say more, but instead he sighed and sagged back into his chair.

Alix bowed and left him to his thoughts.

*   *   *

A pair of
Greenswords eyed the western tower of the gatehouse with matching frowns. There, on the ramparts, a knight in White livery was untying the emerald green banner of their lord from the long iron spike overlooking the bridge.

“What in the bloody Nine does he think he's doing?” one of the guards growled. His companion only shook his head.

Alix kept quiet, watching from her perch on the steps of the motte. The knight was slowly folding Lord Green's banner into smaller and smaller squares. Alix wondered if his deliberate pace was a mark of respect, or if he was simply relishing the drama of what he was about to do. A bit of both, perhaps. She continued with the pretence of honing her blade, but in truth, every sense stretched outward—over the bailey, along the ramparts, through the stables and the barracks and the armoury—as she braced for the reaction. Somewhere behind her, she knew, King Erik and Lord Green watched from the warmth of the keep.