And So It Begins (23 page)

Derek didn’t answer immediately, though the hand he swept through the prince’s hair made Kherin look up sharply. Neither of them had brought up what had happened inside the hospice and out of it while Derek had walked with Kherin on patrol. It was also true that whatever it was that had erupted between them since the subject of the way-stop had been brought to light had been easy to disregard while the vestiges of duty took prominence. Now, however, there was no duty to hide behind, and Kherin worried Derek would opt for distance rather than a repeat of yesterday’s reckoning. But it was only the warmth and affection that was so familiar that he saw in Derek’s eyes when he looked at him…

Along with the glimmer of mischief that made them sparkle in the dim light of the sickroom.

“Pretend you don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” Kherin asked him cautiously. “The rumors will already be spreading about the northerner in Lorn.”

“Pretend you don’t know that northerners could be in Gravlorn,” Derek clarified, smiling easily. “If they are here and they hear you, as long as you pretend you don’t know about them, they will believe their disguise is intact.”

“Which it is,” Kherin added firmly, though the wisdom in the trader’s words began to form solid thoughts in his mind. The rumors would be enough for the northerners to guard their movements if they were inside the camp, but Kherin’s feigned ignorance of their presence would keep them from fleeing. And while there was no doubt they would move more cautiously afterward, they would still move. And as long as they moved, they could be found. He studied the trader’s eyes as Derek watched the understanding take hold.

“So just give an encouraging speech and tell them be on their guard should the northerners try to invade?”

Derek shrugged slightly, though his smile was approving as he straightened. “If the enemy thinks they have you fooled, it’s usually best to ensure they keep that belief intact.”

Kherin let out a small laugh. His relief at having the beginnings of a plan chased some of the fear from his heart, while his relief that Derek wasn’t going to abandon him, despite the words they had exchanged the night before, lifted his spirits enough to keep the smile on his face.

“Are you hungry?” Derek asked then, changing the subject easily he as met Kherin’s smile with a wink. “It will take a little time to gather the Defenders, so we should have time enough to find a meal.” He looked at Kherin critically. “You could also use a bath. If you are going to present yourself to the Defenders, you shouldn’t overwhelm them with your smell.”

Kherin shook his head with a soft snort in reply, and then gave his brother a last cursory tending before joining the trader on the other side of the bed. Their eyes met for just a moment, and Derek’s smile softened as he touched the prince’s cheek before turning to move toward the door. Kherin grabbed his cloak and followed the trader to the streets outside.

The early evening air was crisp with the onset of winter, and though the sun had never broken through the clouds, at least the threat of storms had finally passed. Derek stopped with their first step out of the hospice, and Kherin waited as the trader pulled his gloves tighter, watching him breathe deeply against the chill in the air. Even the outdoors in winter agreed with the trader, Kherin noted enviously, and when Derek had finished, he turned to Kherin and gave him a lopsided grin.

Kherin shook his head. “Lead on,” he said lightly, gesturing at the city before them. “You’ve spent more time in these streets than I have, so I guess I’m forced to trust your judgment.”

“Your wish is my command,” Derek answered with mock seriousness and a half bow. He ended it with a wink and a mischievous tilt to his lips. “But don’t expect it to last.”

K
HERIN
’
S
speech elicited the reactions he expected: stunned surprise from those who had not yet heard, knowing nods from those who had, and offended airs from those who had heard but had been forced to leave their activities in the city to come here and hear it again. Gresham had done a surprisingly good job of assembling all of the Defenders who were not on duty, though it had taken well into evening to do so. And despite Kherin’s asking, Derek had flatly refused to give the speech for him, and had actually laughed the third time Kherin had suggested it. Kherin hadn’t suggested it again.

Instead, the trader had positioned himself near the back of the assembly, leaning against the wall of a storage building where he could stand in the shadows instead of in the light cast by the central campfire. Jarak stood with him, and they kept up a quiet conversation as Kherin spoke, both of them seemingly content to let Kherin handle this on his own. Kherin kept his tone informative and did his best not to sound accusing or threatening. Derek had warned him how simple words could be taken out of context, and how they would watch his actions even closer than they listened to his words.

Once the speech had ended, the Defenders dispersed immediately, some keeping in groups that undoubtedly headed back to the city, while others moved toward the barracks or the kitchen. But it was obvious the speech had created a number of discussions among them, and Kherin felt them watching him as he made his way to where Derek and Jarak waited.

“Well done, my lord,” Jarak greeted him, his words accompanied by the appropriate salute. He was about the same height as Derek, only a little taller than Kherin, though he was more heavily muscled than either of them thanks to his duties as blacksmith. He was also quite a bit older, with gray streaking the blackness of his hair and beard, though both were still full and thick.

“Thank you, Jarak,” Kherin answered, returning the salute. “I just hope they were listening.”

Jarak nodded, exasperation clear in the look he cast around the camp. “So do I, my lord.”

With Jarak being from Delfore, Kherin knew he had no illusions about the state of the defense of Gravlorn. That was very likely what he and Derek had been discussing during Kherin’s speech. After exchanging a few more pleasantries, the blacksmith took his leave, and Kherin turned with Derek to head back to the healer’s quarters.

“You carried that off pretty well,” Derek told him quietly once they were out of earshot of the others. He added teasingly, “We might make a public speaker out of you yet.”

“Don’t even try,” Kherin warned. “The moment I think you’re serious is the moment I humiliate the entire royal family by getting drunk out of my mind and running naked through the streets until dawn.”

Derek raised an amused eyebrow. “You would embarrass your entire family lineage just to get out of presenting formal speeches?”

“Without a second thought.”

Derek laughed at his conviction. “I hope your father realizes that, and therefore knows better than to saddle you with the responsibility. And even if he doesn’t, it’s certain he’ll only saddle you with it once.”

Kherin grunted his assent. “My point exactly.”

They found the streets were more populated than usual on the trek back to the hospice, though Kherin ignored the looks cast toward him as he passed. He opened the door of the healer’s quarters to allow Derek to enter first, though Derek let the prince approach the sickroom door ahead of him.

Both froze when they stepped inside.

Adrien sat on his sickbed, legs over the edge, awake and somewhat alert. The humor he had been sharing with Derek vanished as Kherin moved quickly to his bedside, barely concealing his relief and joy as he sank onto the edge. He touched his brother’s arm and laid his other hand lightly on his back just below the bandages that still covered the ragged cut. When Adrien managed a small smile in his direction, Kherin’s heart sang. Derek appeared on Adrien’s other side, dropping to a crouch in front of the elder prince, laying his hand gently on Adrien’s knee. The trader was smiling when Adrien turned enough to meet his eyes.

“Welcome back,” the trader told him softly. Adrien took a deep breath and nodded his thanks, and the smile Derek turned on Kherin showed that their joy—and relief—was shared.

But Kherin’s smile wavered slightly as he turned back and studied his brother. Awake though he was, he still bore the appearance of illness and the toll of extended bed rest. But at least he wasn’t in pain. The healer had come and gone in their absence, and Kherin hid his scowl when he noticed the packages of powders that had been left on the table and the pitcher of water beside them. He wanted more than anything to throw them in the river.

The feel of fingers brushing the hair over his ear drew his attention inevitably back to the trader, and though Derek apparently spoke to them both, he eyes didn’t stray from Kherin.

“I need to see what is happening now that you’ve left the camp, since words are likely to be more honest when spoken behind your back. I’ll return, but I can’t say how quickly.”

Kherin nodded in both understanding and gratitude, and Derek answered him with an acknowledging wink before turning to speak a few soft words to Adrien. Then his fingers swept Kherin’s hair again as the trader rose to leave, and the brothers remained silent until the door closed behind him.

Adrien then turned to Kherin with a look of curiosity mixed with an unquestionable certainty. “I see you and Derek are managing well,” Adrien said. The scrape of his voice was barely above a whisper, though the amusement in it was clear nonetheless. “And since you’re not under guard or chained to the castle walls, I take it Father doesn’t know?”

His cheeks flamed at the candidness of Adrien’s words. “Derek’s not sneaking his way into my bed, if that’s what you’re thinking,” he managed.

Adrien’s laugh was quiet and brittle, but nevertheless real. “I would think it more likely you would be sneaking your way into his. I swear you fell in love with him when you were six and have been pining after him ever since.”

Kherin’s face grew hotter, but Adrien squeezed his hand lightly as his laughter faded to a smile. “It was there for anyone who bothered to look, and there to hear if you listened to the right castle gossip, so I wouldn’t count on Father being completely unaware of it.” If Adrien was aware of the sudden wariness that Kherin felt at his words, he didn’t acknowledge it, but only added softly, “And I take it Derek—?”

“Yes,” Kherin answered immediately, though he had to look away when the half-truth of that answer formed a knot in his stomach. “No,” he amended quietly, not meeting Adrien’s eyes. The explanation of Derek’s feelings and the reasons he wouldn’t act on them was given in short, blunt terms, and Kherin couldn’t keep his own bitterness about those reasons out of his voice, even if Adrien said nothing. Kherin didn’t know what he was expecting from Adrien when his words ran out, but it hadn’t been the long-suffering sigh he heard. He looked at his brother just in time to see Adrien slowly shake his head.

“Ah, Kherin, you were never one to take the easy course, were you?” He stopped Kherin’s argument with another small smile. “There are far worse people than Derek to set your heart on, and none I would consider better. Just don’t expect Derek to throw caution to the wind just to tumble you into bed. And don’t expect him to let you do it either. We both know he won’t.”

Adrien’s seeming acceptance, combined with the stark reminder that Derek had valid reasons for keeping Kherin at a distance, turned the knot in his stomach rather than released it. He should have expected warnings to come from Adrien as well as Derek, and the fact that Adrien was awake to give them….

The relief of that finally erupted, loosening the tightness in his stomach, and Kherin felt the sting in his eyes as he learned over to pull Adrien into an awkward hug.

The sudden awareness of sharp bones beneath his brother’s flesh shattered his relief an instant later, even before his hand brushed over the soft covering of the bandage on Adrien’s shoulder. The reality of the northerners and the seizures became brutally clear in the frailness of his brother’s body, and the smell of Adrien’s matted hair was heavy as he breathed in. Adrien’s arms closed weakly around him as he closed his eyes, but he heard the words Adrien whispered near his ear.

“Just be careful, Kherin. Derek isn’t the only one who worries about you.”

The words could have referred to the northerners or the path he was trying to begin with Derek, but either way, if being raised in the castle at Delfore had accomplished anything, it was to ensure the king hadn’t sired a fragile second son.

“I’ll be careful, and I’ll deal with what Father has to say once I return to Delfore,” Kherin told his brother calmly, mimicking words he had heard from Derek as he gently pushed Adrien back. “What’s happening in here scares me more than anything Father could do. Now tell me what I can do to help.”

T
HE
small camp kitchen was crowded, both inside and out, and Derek waited with the Defenders for his chance for food. Even a prince of Llarien was only a Defender here, and so a mere trader was even less. But Derek was content with this arrangement. It gave him the chance to listen to the conversations of those around him, and what he heard could be termed interesting.

“How could they not recognize a northerner even with his hair shaved off?” asked one incredulous voice.

Geril, the Defender Kherin had been assigned to on patrol. Derek recognized his mountain accent even before he found the man in the group gathered beside the kitchen wall. He didn’t draw his attention, however, and slid his eyes away even as he kept listening.

“Maybe we should grow our hair long and cross to their side,” suggested another Defender.

Derek raised an eyebrow at the notion. Kherin had tried crossing the river once, but that had been with the intent to capture, and they had already broached the subject of northerners pretending to be Defenders. But Defenders pretending to be northerners? That was something new. Derek hadn’t even considered that any would look at that as an option.

“Don’t the Defender Leaders know people who are assigned to them?”

They should, Derek agreed. He would talk to Kherin—and Adrien, if he was well enough—about that. He would speak to Gresham again, as well.