To Darkness Fled (15 page)

Achan scratched behind his ear. "I don't understand--"

"There's no need to relive it," Sir Caleb said. "Get dressed. We'll leave as soon as you're ready. Lord Eli doesn't know what to believe.
Queen
Hamartano made her accusations before I could. The pontiff's story doesn't match Vrell's, so he's lying for whatever reason. We'd planned to go anyway. Leaving in secret might make you look guilty, but lingering to prove our case will only give more opportunity for attacks against you, and I'm not trained to fight Jaelportian mages. Are you well?"

"Uh...my head. It...hurts. But I'll love--" Achan pressed a hand to his neck as if a dry throat had caused that slip of the tongue. "I'll live."

Inko poured a mug of water from a tray on the sideboard. Achan took it and drank.

Sir Caleb pulled one of the wooden chairs over from the wall and sat beside the bed. "Never smell anything from the hand of a Jaelportian woman, Your Highness."

Achan groaned. "Now you tell me."

"Lord Eli was having a hand in this all, I'm being certain," Inko said.

"It simply proves my point," Sir Caleb said. "Achan should marry soon."

Achan fell back and pulled the pelt over his head. He didn't want to hear this again.

"Please." Sir Gavin sniffed long and hard. "Never in all my years of service have I seen anything like this. 'Tis nothing to fear will happen again once we're away."

Achan hoped not. That a simple powder could make him declare love for Jaira Hamartano... He shuddered.

Sir Caleb's chair creaked. "But if he's wed, there will be nothing to worry about."

"What is it you fear, Caleb?" Sir Gavin asked. "Once we leave, there will be no more danger of love dusts."

"I fear he falls for the wrong woman's charm. A beautiful woman can be convincing without love dust. If he's properly married, there's no fear of--"

"Many a king still finds beautiful women falling at his feet. His being married won't keep that temptation from him."

"It should," Sparrow said in his bossy tone.

Achan wanted to agree, but his feelings for Gren hadn't kept Lady Tara from his mind.

"But if Jaelport wanted to steal his heir, a child with his gift could be trained against him," Sir Caleb said.

Child? Achan pulled down the pelt and opened his mouth to comment, but could think of nothing to interject into such a statement. His head still hurt, and the conversation didn't help.

Sir Gavin tugged at his beard braid. "If they could steal an heir now, they can steal an heir when he's wed. What will be, will be, Caleb. Why worry over it?"

Sir Caleb scoffed as if it were obvious. "Because his firstborn must be legitimate, of course. So no other child could make a claim."

"But should his firstborn be killed, the second could still make a claim, even if he were born out of wedlock."

Achan pushed himself to sitting. "Stop killing off children I don't have! This is madness." He threw off the pelt. He still wore his clothes from last night, but his boots had been removed. He wanted his own clothes, what Gren had made him, not this pompous garb. Besides, it reeked of Jaira.

He slid from the bed, the wood floor cool under his bare feet. He spied Sir Gavin's pack against the far wall and walked toward it, wincing at his throbbing head.

"Your Highness," Sir Caleb said, "as we've mentioned, a king is a target for much trickery and deceit. We second guess possibilities as our way of protecting you."

Achan threw up his hands. "But I wouldn't...I could never... Why would you all assume I'd betray my wife?"

"We cannot be knowing what you might be doing until you've done it," Inko said.

Accusation stabbed his heart. "None of you have faith in me to do what's right?"

"Truly we're knowing little about you, Your Highness. It'll be taking time to--"

"Aw, 'tis more we don't trust others not to take advantage of you," Sir Gavin said. "Look what Jaira nearly accomplished."

"Don't blame yourself, Your Highness," Sir Caleb said. "There's a reason women rule in Jaelport. Magic is not taught to men there unless they become eunuchs. Remember, Queen Hamartano, not her husband, rules Jaelport."

Achan continued across the room, pitying Lord Hamartano.

"Shouldn't have left him unguarded," Sir Gavin said.

"We didn't," Sir Caleb said. "Vrell was to bloodvoice any threat, and he did his duty."

"His duty?" Sir Gavin's voice rose in pitch. "One lad? To guard our prince? Vrell is untrained, unprepared for such responsibility."

"Since when do you care about a soldier's skill level?" Sir Caleb asked.

Sir Gavin gestured to Vrell. "The lad nearly died trying to protect his future king."

Achan recalled the ugly bruise on Sparrow's neck. He didn't feel worthy to have people willing to die for his stupidity. He opened Sir Gavin's pack and dug for his clothes.

Sir Caleb set a hand on Sparrow's shoulder. "Vrell took out Larkos on his own, which was very well done, boy. He's a hero who'll someday make an excellent Kingsguard knight."

Achan glanced across the room to Sparrow. "You bested Larkos?"

The boy's cheeks flushed. "I caught him slightly unaware."

"So let us at least consider the prince's options for matrimony," Sir Caleb said.

Achan groaned and went back to searching for his clothes.

"The first question is being, an ally or an enemy?" Inko said. "A marriage that will be strengthening current alliances or one that will be forging new peace?"

"Ally, of course," Sir Caleb said. "Er'Rets isn't strong enough to worry about making peace with known enemies. You see what people are willing to do to gain control."

"Then who is supporting our cause that we're trusting?" Inko asked.

"I can only guess," Sir Caleb said, "but Xulon, Berland, Carmine, Zerah Rock. Probably Mitspah, as well, and Tsaftown. Armonguard, of course."

Achan found the shirt and jerkin Gren had made him. He lifted them to his nose and found them stinking of mildew. Sir Gavin's pack must have gotten wet when they waded to shore. He switched the fancy blue shirt for Gren's brown one anyway.

"Does not Duchess Amal have a daughter?" Sir Caleb asked.

"Several, I'm thinking."

"Now Carm," Sir Caleb said. "She'd be our wisest ally. The North would rally behind a queen from Carm or even Therion."

"Wasn't Esek planning the same?" Inko asked. "Wasn't he trying to wed Averella Amal?"

Achan slipped his jerkin on. "Bran's lady? Didn't Macoun Hadar capture her?"

"Aye." Sir Gavin's eyes shifted. "But she escaped."

"Good." Achan had been feeling responsible for the lady when the trade hadn't happened. He started lacing his jerkin.

"Gavin, you know the duchess," Sir Caleb said. "Do you think she'd speak with us about a betrothal?"

Sparrow squeaked.

Betrothal? "Wait." Achan dropped the laces. "I've never met Lady Averella. You can't expect me to marry a stranger. Besides, she's Bran's girl."

Sir Caleb directed his eyes to Achan. "Kings do it all the time."

"Well, not me."

"This matter could be changing the course of who would be ruling Er'Rets," Inko said.

Achan scowled. "I'll not steal a friend's love or use any woman as barter in a war."

"Why ever not?" Sir Caleb asked.

"I..." Achan ran a hand through his hair. "Why can't I find my own bride?"

"We haven't time for you to comb the countryside in search of love," Sir Caleb said. "Do you know any noblewomen who are heirs to a duchy and come with a large army? Is there another you'd prefer?"

Achan wanted to scream. He didn't want to be king or marry some woman he didn't know. His head spun. He remembered sitting with Esek at his coming-of-age celebration observing the eligible maids of Er'Rets. Esek had found none of them desirable, but Achan had disagreed on one account.

He hesitated. "She must be of noble birth?"

"Aye," Sir Gavin said.

Lady Tara. He could think of no one else. He said in a small voice, "What of Lady Tara of Tsaftown?"

"Tsaftown is at the end of Er'Rets. No one much cares who they support," Sir Caleb said.

"But I've met Lady Tara. I
like
her. She was kind to me when she thought me a stray. Plus, she's beautiful."

"Ah. Forgive me, Your Highness," Sir Caleb said. "I thought we were attempting to save all Er'Rets from Darkness and peril, but Arman forbid our prince marry someone plain."

"That's unfair. I shouldn't
have to
marry anyone."

"That's the way of kings."

"Well, it's also the way of kings to...to change things," Achan sputtered. "To- to- to make new laws."

"Don't be ridiculous, boy," Sir Caleb said.

"Well...am I king?"

Everyone went silent.

Achan sucked in a sharp breath, horrified he'd used Esek's pompous catchphrase. "I-I'm sorry."

"Have no fear, Your Highness." Sir Gavin set a hand on Achan's shoulder and squeezed. "You'll not have to decide this day. It'll be a month before we free our men and many more until we reach Armonguard. You have until then."

* * *

Leather saddlebags creaked, hooves clomped, and tails swished at mosquitoes as the horses carried them through the dark void. North, supposedly. Sir Caleb had tethered the animals with his rope, so there was no need to steer. Still, it felt awkward to sit atop a horse again, especially in Darkness, but Achan liked Scout. The sleek black horse had a gentle disposition. Achan sensed he was eager to leave Mirrorstone.

Achan had ridden only once before, under Sir Gavin's instruction. He tried to figure how much time had passed, but the weeks blurred together. He'd left Sitna in early summer. The battle had taken him out for days, then he'd sat in prison for another week or so. They'd been in Darkness five days now. So maybe a month had passed since he'd left Sitna?

It felt like years.

Whether Lord Eli had known of Lady Jaira's treason was unclear, but he'd been more than generous providing horses, food, and supplies for the journey.

The horses soon entered the marshlands. Their footsteps reminded Achan of the sound Gren's feet made when stomping wool in the fulling water. Gren was the only woman he loved enough to marry, and she'd married
Riga
. He closed his eyes and focused on her face.

Suddenly it was as if he were elsewhere. The dank smell of urine filled his nostrils, making him feel like he was standing beside Gren as she stomped in her tub. But the smell was stronger than fulling water alone. Cold dampness pressed in on Achan. He shivered.

Riga
's voice filled Achan's mind.
You're full of dung, knight. I don't believe it.

Truth is truth. Doesn't matter whether you believe it,
a man's familiar voice said.

I believe it,
Gren said.

Grenny, don't be daft. That goat boy is no king.

Why else would we be here,
Riga
? You think Lord Nathak would jail us for talking to this knight? Now
that's
daft.

How was this possible? He'd only thought of Gren and--

"Achan!" Sir Gavin's voice pulled him away from the prison cell. "Stay with us, now. We don't want your mind wandering off."

"I'm here." But Achan's pulse throbbed. What had he seen? Could it have been real? Could Gren really be in prison--and because of him? Esek had done this. Achan had forgotten Esek's threat to hurt Gren and her family if Achan left his service. But what could Achan do? He was so far away.

Arman, help her.

A sharp ping needled Achan's temple.
Sir Gavin.