The Bonding (The Song and the Rhythm) (33 page)

“After we listened to their conversation,” Dart said, “we decided to leave a message for King Celos. We figured it would be good for him to know, and he might be able to catch one or both of those men. We left descriptions of them, and told him what had happened here and what else we’d found out. We also asked him to wait to hear from you before acting further on his own. That’s pretty much everything.”

Rush nodded his agreement.

The king sat deep in thought, idly scratching his chin. He now wore clothing similar to Vaun’s, only it was lighter and the colors of his shirt and trousers were reversed. He also had a golden falcon embroidered on the left side of his shirt, its regally upright posture and prominent eyes declaring a watchful intensity and readiness to act, much like the Overlord whose house it represented. Vaun had noticed that the monarch changed often and seemed to have a fondness for red, though it wasn’t among his royal colors.

Vaun surveyed his companions, wondering what they’d decide. As he did, it struck him that they would probably ask his opinion, and that thought reaffirmed his feeling that he belonged here with them.

Merdel turned to Dart. “What did you say the name of that fellow was those men mentioned?”

Dart looked back at him. “Liskin.”

“Liskin. That sounds familiar.” The mage’s eyes narrowed.

“Me, too.” King Dobry nodded.

Drath raised his eyebrows. “One of your old friends, perhaps?”

Both men shrugged, saying nothing.

Drath looked over at the elves. “You said they know Vaun killed the Jaga, right?”

Rush nodded. “Yes. They know he’s from Ramen, too.” Vaun noticed how the elf said it as if it were true, not merely a cover, and discovered he liked it. “They mentioned rumors of people who might be you or Merdel, but didn’t seem convinced or even concerned about them. Although if they find out the truth, I’d watch your back.”

Drath’s eyes widened. “Me?”

Dart nodded. “They did mention ‘the Celene prince.’”

Vaun choked on the last of his apple. “Prince?” He turned astonished eyes over to Drath. “You’re a prince?”

Drath actually looked bashful. “Yes. I didn’t think it important enough to tell you.”

“Not important! You being a prince isn’t important?”

“Not for what I came to you for, no.” He squirmed uncomfortably in his seat. “I didn’t want it to affect how you reacted to me. Besides, if I’d told you at first I was a prince, you’d have laughed and walked off.”

Vaun paused. “You’re probably right. But why not tell me later?”

“When? Just blurt it out one night over the campfire? ‘Oh, by the way, Vaun, my father’s the king of Celene, and I’m his only heir.’” He grunted. “How exactly do you work that kind of thing into normal conversation?”

“I don’t know, but you could have thought of something.
Should
have, I should say.” Vaun shook his head. “You people sure do keep a lot of secrets.”

Drath clenched his lips on further comment, appearing suitably chastised by Vaun’s statement. Vaun let him feel guilty for a bit, then patted him on the shoulder. “It’s okay, my friend, I
do
understand.” He grinned wryly. “It’s an honor to meet you, Your Highness.”

Drath muttered about that being just the sort of thing he’d wanted to avoid, as Vaun turned back to the elves.

“How’d they find out I killed the Jaga? The attack hasn’t even been acknowledged. Where’d they get their information?”

The others glanced nervously around the room, and Dart moved his hands in small, discreet gestures. Vaun regarded him curiously, wondering what the elf was doing.

Drath coughed and leaned close to the youth. “We have a spy in the castle.” Vaun stiffened and immediately searched the room for hiding places.

His eyes passed over the many tapestries and drapes, for once not wondering what battles were depicted on some or who was in the hunting scenes on others. Instead, he thought how easy it would be to hide behind one and listen to all that was said. He studied each one, trying to detect anything unusual. One of the tapestries on the opposite wall to his right, hanging between two bookcases, moved slightly, but the Swordsman passed it off as a draft. As he turned away from it, however, he remembered that the room had no windows and that all the doors were shut tight.

King Dobry came out of his thoughts enough to notice the youth’s search. “This room’s clean.” Vaun raised a silencing hand, however, and rose. The others looked at him, then turned toward where his eyes were locked on a tapestry not ten paces away.

The Swordsman moved quietly toward the hanging cloth, glad for the thick rug and soft shoes masking his approach, and motioned for everyone else to remain seated. They all watched him intently, wondering what held his attention.

Vaun stepped before the tapestry and studied it, though he barely noticed the scene it depicted. His side didn’t itch, making him wonder both if he’d imagined it and if whoever or whatever was behind the tapestry represented no danger to him. He caught King Dobry’s signal that he wanted another prisoner and assumed he also wanted as little damage to his possessions as possible. Instead of sticking his sword through it, he ripped the tapestry aside, his weapon coming into his hand almost before he’d thought to draw it. He halted it in mid-swing, the Song cut short before it even really began, when he saw who crouched against the wall.

*
*
*

Princess Tara yelped when her concealment broke. She tried to fade into the wall behind her, with no success, at sight of Vaun and his upraised Vaulka. Visibly wincing when her father called her name, she glanced up at Vaun’s grin as he sheathed his sword, and clenched her jaw angrily.

She thrust aside his offer of aid and rose on her own. Her anger only seemed to mount as her face passed mere inches from his own. She then sniffed and turned up her nose at him, whirling and walking briskly to where her displeased father sat.

Vaun returned to his own seat. He noticed that Dart stared wide-eyed at the princess, perhaps trying to figure out why he hadn’t heard or smelled her. Vaun assumed
that either she
was in the room before them, or Dart had been concentrating so much on his report he hadn’t sensed her sneak in.

King Dobry sighed with the patience only a parent had. “Tara, what in all the blazing Fires of Tarquon were you doing spying on me?”

Tara winced again, her father’s wrath evident by his swearing, something he rarely did when she was present. Too scared to say anything, she stood in silence twisting her fingers in her green and black dress, its falcon half the size of her father’s, and looked as if she held back tears.

“Answer me, young lady.” The king seemed more hurt than angry, as well as somewhat relieved, and appeared to dislike scaring his daughter so. When he saw she wasn’t going to say anything, he reached out and took her hand, pulling her to him. “I’m sorry, honey.” His voice was softer now as she sat in his lap. “With all that’s been going on, I’m a little short-tempered. But that does not excuse you for spying on me.”

“I wasn’t spying.” Tara definitely struggled not to cry. “I only wanted to see what was happening. You never let me hear anything important, and no one tells me what’s going on. This is my house, too.”

King Dobry laughed. “You’re just like your mother. I guess this has been made as much your business as everyone else’s. Since you seem to know so much about us, I guess you can stay.” He hugged her tightly, and she sank against him. “How did you sneak in here?”

Tara smiled broadly. “I used the sliding panel behind that bookcase.” She pointed to the one to the left of the tapestry. “It’s very handy, but I don’t think anyone uses it anymore.”

Captain Stolar shifted in his seat. “I should hope not. No one’s supposed to know it’s there.”

“I think I’m the only one who does. The door was so rusted I had to oil it the first time I used it. And mine are the only footprints I’ve ever seen in the passage.” She winced, realizing she’d just given herself away.

“The
first
time?” King Dobry’s brows rose. “Just how many times have you used it?”

His daughter shrugged. “I don’t know. I found it a few years ago.”

“A few
years
ago?” The king laughed. “Stolar, remind me to enlist Tara as a spy when she’s completed her other studies. I think she’d do a fiery good job.”

Everyone laughed as Stolar bowed, grinning, from his seated position. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

“Who do you think the spy is?” Tara eyed the group expectantly. The others flinched, and she grinned apologetically. It was never a good idea to let a spy know he’d been found out before making use of him.

“That’s all right.” Her father chuckled. “Like I told Vaun, this room’s clean, at least now it is. But I don’t know. Any thoughts, gentlemen?”

“It would have to be someone fairly high up, Your Majesty.” Merdel’s voice had that calm, addressing-royalty tone again. “In order for him to find out what he knows. Someone from one of the noble families, or a servant who’d be overlooked.”

“Do you think Elak’s involved with this?” King Dobry didn’t hesitate mentioning the Dark Wizard in front of his daughter, even though parents used his name to frighten their children away from disobedience, because he suspected she’d spied on that discussion, too. “He did, after all, send those men after Tara.”

“Not likely.” The bearded mage shook his head. “From what Dart told us, Liskin probably works with someone else, or by himself. Whoever it is wants to take over the south. Elak wants to do that, but he wants to conquer every kingdom, not just yours. It’s probably someone else who doesn’t like you.

“Elak most likely doesn’t even know you were attacked by the Jaga. He sent those two men because he probably discovered you were helping us, or at least suspected it. Again, I’m not sure how he found out, though I’m sorry to say I haven’t found anything useful. Elak has only recently been added to the list of people trying to kill you.”

“Fire and ice.” The king glanced at Tara, apparently feeling guilty about swearing in front of his daughter. “Now I have to think of someone else who told me my debts’d be paid in blood. Don’t remember this Liskin well enough to know if it was him. I remember now that Celos meant the blood of other people, not my own, when he told me that. And I think that debt was paid during the Veldanese Uprising before Tara was born.” He growled. “I have enemies everywhere, and they’re even trying to make me suspect my friends. Not to mention, my own daughter is spying on me, too.”

Tara harrumphed and poked him, and he tickled her in retaliation. She jumped, and as she twisted she noticed Vaun looking at her. She stiffened abruptly and turned away from him. Vaun’s eyebrows came together in exasperated curiosity.

The Overlord noticed her movement and smiled. “That reminds me. Vaun and Tara haven’t been introduced, at least formally. Vaun Tarsus,” the young man stood, “this is my daughter, Tara. Tara, this is Vaun Tarsus, our visitor from Ramen.”

The princess refused to look at Vaun, who bowed toward her and said how honored he was to meet her. Everyone else in the room chuckled. Vaun, confused still as to her behavior, sat back down and looked questioningly at the grinning faces around him. He noticed King Dobry regarded him oddly, as if sizing him up all over again. Telling himself he’d probably never understand women, especially this one, he listened carefully as the conversation turned back to the matter at hand.

*
*
*

Rain sheeted down from the sky in a torrent. It hit the ground in large, fat drops and ran in rivulets into ever-growing pools. It covered everything and was so thick that Vaun could barely see his companions riding in front of him. He peered out from under his deep hood at Merdel and Thorne, their forms shadowed by the wall of water between them and himself. He caught only sparse glimpses of the elves at the front of the party, though he mostly kept his eyes on the treacherous ground before him.

The terrain here was not the gentle, rolling hills of the Midlands that Vaun had become accustomed to. Instead, multiple ravines cut the rocky ground. Most of them were shallow, but a few were quite deep. Because of the rain, the ravines had quickly filled with water and become narrow, swiftly flowing streams.

Thunder boomed distantly over his head, causing Vaun to gaze at the dark sky. He couldn’t see a spot of sunlight anywhere, though it was only midday. The clouds were too thick. Drath, riding beside him, said this was absolutely normal, but the youth still didn’t like it. This much rain, no matter what anyone told him, didn’t seem natural. They were halfway through their third day out of Bordell, and already the Swordsman was uptight. It wasn’t so much the rain that bothered him, as it was what had happened in the city he had just left.

The prisoner wasn’t all that forthcoming, either through loyalty to Elak, which Merdel doubted, or because he didn’t know anything, which the mage figured was the truth. The man had said that he and his companion had been sent to find out if the party members were in the city, and if King Dobry helped them. Town gossip had told them all they’d needed to know, which informed the king that he had only one security breach. Elak had ordered them to murder Princess Tara after learning of the Overlord’s aid.

The man had said he knew nothing about the Jaga or Liskin and had pleaded with them to kill him. He seemed terrified of Elak finding out he’d been captured and had answered questions. In compliance with his request, the mercenary had been hung.

A message had arrived from Darim, telling King Dobry that the traitor in King Celos’s court had not been apprehended, for he’d fled the city once it had become apparent that his king knew about his plots. King Dobry’s reply had been thanks for the information, as well as an apology for doubting the Darim king’s loyalty and for the names the Overlord had called him when all the facts were still unknown.

Tara had remained cold, colder even than the wind that now blew in his face, until the day Vaun left, and he could not figure out why. She was an attractive girl, and he hated to see the way she turned people off because of her short temper. She had beautiful long hair that was more brown than blond and also splashed with a little red. She had the most vivid green eyes he’d ever seen, and they had pierced him since they first set on him. He guessed her to be two or three years younger than he, though she acted as if she were a queen. Vaun couldn’t figure her out and didn’t think he ever would.