Prisoner (45 page)

Matthias quirked a brow. "Not even if we're housing their Wolf?"

Von Adolwulf laughed. "Killing me can wait 'til Spring, I'm sure. If they bother to come for me at all."

Beraht glanced at him before letting his eyes return to the fire. His thoughts wandered to the Kaiser and his behavior that day in the Coliseum. The rage that had surfaced when magic had taken von Adolwulf's sword away. For all that the bastard laughed it off, Beraht wasn't so certain the Kaiser would so easily let von Adolwulf get away. Hate was a harder master than that.

Shoving the thought aside, Beraht focused on more important matters. "So how much do you think they know?"

"We don't have magic," Matthias said. "What more is there to know than that?"

"Him, for one," Beraht pointed a thumb at von Adolwulf. "He's not a universally hated bastard for nothing." He could feel von Adolwulf's eyes, the urge he must have been quashing to send Beraht to the floor gasping in pain. Beraht ignored him.

Sol chuckled. Though he was obviously tired and still in pain, his words proved that his mind was as active as ever. "There is that. Certainly, I would hesitate to go where the Wolf has taken refuge, if I were in their position. I'm sure rumors abound that you've been a traitor for some time, much like I've been." His eyes slid closed as he thought. "I guess we need to ascertain just where we stand and how much danger we could be facing." He opened his eyes. "I do hope you're right about no one risking the snow."

Von Adolwulf nodded. "Kria would not waste time and effort when the same could be accomplished at much less expense in the spring. No one is going anywhere until then. Especially the Salharans, who, for all they complain about how pathetic we are for quitting in winter," he said and sneered at Beraht "cannot take the cold at all. You never see a Salharan run faster than when the snow begins to fall."

Beraht rolled his eyes. "Not all of us have ice in our veins."

"Merely drugs."

Matthias held up a hand. "Enough. The two of you could give my ministers lessons on bickering." He started to say something more, but shook his head and fell silent. "So we need to know precisely where we stand. Any idea how we go about that?"

"Let me go to Salhara," Beraht said, words coming out in a rush as the idea came to him. "I've still plenty of red arcen in my blood, a journey there and back should be easy enough, and I'm good enough at—"

"Sneaking around," von Adolwulf interrupted.

"Going unobserved," Beraht snapped, "that I should not have too much trouble gathering information."

Von Adolwulf sneered at him. "Not content with your eyes,
Beraht?
Hoping to make them the color of blood?"

"Stars refuse you!" Beraht hissed. "You have no idea what you're talking about."

"No?" von Adolwulf's arm snaked out, and he jerked Beraht close, one hand tilting his head up and slightly toward the fire. In the light of the flames, Beraht's eyes were a pale, glowing orange instead of the rich yellow they had been only the day before. "Isn't that the trick of arcen? That after a point it begins to control you? Have you not said before,
Beraht,
that arcen means a great deal to you? I think letting you go right into the heart of it would be the height of stupidity."

Beraht lashed out, growing more furious at the realization that von Adolwulf
let
his kicks land. Stars, the man was the epitome of aggravating! Would Beraht ever be rid of him? More bitter still was the knowledge that he had no one but himself to blame for the Wolf's presence. Stars refuse him for a fool. "You don't know me. Don't pretend to. You think I don't know the risks of arcen,
Krian?
I don't need to be lectured by a man who thinks himself so superior. Especially one who's relied on arcen unwittingly for years."

"Arcen did not give me my skills,
Beraht.
" von Adolwulf's voice was low, a sure sign of danger.

Surely by now von Adolwulf knew he wasn't intimidating enough to stop Beraht. Stars, he
hated
the way the bastard said his name. "No, but I'm sure it explains why you're still alive. I'm almost certain it must affect spells cast at you."

"I assure you it does not."

"Then how is it you didn't seem affected by Tawn's magic last night?"

Von Adolwulf smirked. "It takes more than a few pathetic spells to stop me."

*~*~*

Neither of them noticed the dead silence that had fallen around them. More than once, Matthias had started to interrupt, stopping only because watching them fight was strangely fascinating, as though it were some intricate dance.

"That was concentrated arcen, you idiot. Did the cold freeze what passes for a mind in that rock head of yours? The spells Tawn was using were probably fatal or very nearly. If they didn't kill or even hurt you, it's probably because your sword was absorbing or deflecting or otherwise affecting the spells he was casting. So just accept that maybe you're as arcen-reliant as any Salharan."

Dieter threw him to the floor. "Ridiculous. I fight often enough I would notice such a thing. As to how the spell affected me, how could you possibly tell? You don't know me." He turned away in disgust. "Do as you like. It makes no difference to me." Nodding to Matthias, he turned toward the door.

It flew open even as he reached it, and Dieter barely stopped in time to avoid the soldier who burst into the room. "Highness! Highness!"

"I'm right here," Matthias said, torn between concern and amusement.

The soldier barely remembered to bow and came out of the motion only halfway through it. "Scarlet!"

"What?" Matthias demanded. His eyes flew to Dieter, who had gone still before once again regaining his calm stance.

"The Scarlet Army is approaching. Watch estimates there are roughly five hundred of them."

"Why?"

The soldier shook his head. "We don't know."

"What banner do they fly?" Dieter demanded, voice cutting across the room. The soldier jumped and looked at him warily.

"A black one," the soldier replied. "With your leaves." Dieter said nothing; he merely nodded, turned, and vanished out the door.

"Hey!" Matthias called. "Wait a second!" He moved to follow his general—by the goddess Dieter was
his
general now—and cursed as he stumbled. Remembering his cane, ignoring Kalan's frown, he gripped the soldier's shoulder in thanks and went after Dieter.

He found him on the parapets, surrounded at a distance by whispering soldiers and a handful of nobles. "Dieter?" Dieter did not reply, though he glanced at Matthias briefly.

"Are they here to attack?" Matthias pressed. There was indeed a large number of them, though if five hundred was correct it was paltry compared to the thousands he knew should have composed the entirety of the Scarlet. Most were on foot, and they marched slowly through the deep snow. Those on horseback fared better, but not by much. Their dark red uniforms were a wash of blood on the white snow.

Matthias wondered suddenly if he had made a very big mistake. He started to voice his question again when Dieter raised an arm and pointed. "The banner," he said, indicating a long, black flag bearing the triple-leaf crest of the Scarlet. It was a reference, Matthias knew, to one of the Krian gods. "Were they intending harm, it would be red. Black is a show of peace."

"Do the Scarlet know what the word peace means?" Beraht asked from behind them.

Dieter whipped around, and even Matthias recoiled at the fierce look in his jade-green eyes. "Peace is leaving the Regenbogen when winter arrives. Peace is being three days away from it, and knowing it's safe to relax when you sleep. Do not speak to me again,
Beraht."
He turned away, hands wrapping around the edge of the stone wall surrounding the palace. "I don't know why they're here. My men should be holed up in the Regenbogen fortress, unless the Kaiser ordered them to move. But they would not fly the black banner if that were the case." Muttering to himself in Krian, Dieter turned away and shoved Beraht away from the stairs, descending them rapidly and calling an order for the gates to be raised.

Matthias motioned for them to obey when the soldiers looked to him. He watched pensively as Dieter waited, frown deepening as the Scarlet reached the palace wall. A man dismounted and stalked toward Dieter and clasped hands. From a distance, their words were undistinguishable, but the tone was not—whatever was occurring, Dieter was pleased by something.

Suddenly, Dieter threw his head back and laughed, and it carried far across the snow, joined by that of the man with him and more than a few of the nearest soldiers. Dieter turned and looked up. "Prince Matthias!"

"Yes, General?"

"Have you room for some guests?"

Matthias flicked his eyes out over the men, doing some quick calculations. "If they'll earn their keep," he called back. There should be food enough, certainly room enough, to last what remained of winter. And he had the emergency stores besides, if worst came to worst.

Dieter's laughter spilled across the snow again, and Matthias fought an urge to smile. "Most assuredly." He spoke rapidly to the man with him, who turned and barked orders to his companions on horseback, and then Dieter was leading his Scarlet into the Illussor palace.

Matthias sat behind his desk, arms crossed as he regarded Dieter and the man beside him. What surprised him was that the man was older than Dieter by at least a couple of decades. His hair had turned completely gray, and his face bore a lifetime's worth of scars as wrinkles. He wouldn't have thought a man so obviously seasoned in war would obey a man as young as Dieter, but the most obvious thing about him was his allegiance.

There was also a glaring lack of fear. Didn't the Scarlet fear their general as much as everyone else? Such had been so vehemently told that Matthias had not thought it merely another overblown rumor. Matthias spoke, feeling and seeing the tension of the others in the room. Kalan watched the Krians pensively, and he could see Sol's mind racing behind that still face, and Iah's shoulders hunched with worry beside him. Beraht was the only one who seemed unfazed.

"This is Commander Reinhard Becker," Dieter said. "One of my best men, and he's survived long enough in the business he recalls not one but two of my predecessors." Matthias nodded at Reinhard.

"He reports that several days ago he was sent orders to prepare for war, and that the Scarlet would be the first wave against the Illussor. Upon learning the details of the matter, gleaned from the messenger," Dieter's grin left no doubt as to what precisely was meant by 'gleaned,' "the remaining Scarlet, all five hundred of them, came to warn me."

"I'm confused," Kalan interrupted. "It was always my impression that your army hated you. Why would they turn traitor for you?"

Dieter smirked and spoke in rapid-fire Krian to his Colonel, who laughed. He turned back to Kalan. "My men are not as scared of me as everyone seems to think. They would sooner side with their general than the Kaiser who refused to acknowledge the deaths of their comrades."

"That was only because they work for you," Beraht pointed out. "Isn't it kind of stupid to stay with you?"

Dieter again spoke to Reinhard beside him, too fast for anyone but Sol to keep up, and again the man laughed. Reinhard looked at Beraht and spoke more slowly. Nearby, Sol quietly translated for the others, "It is better to side with a general who strives to keep us alive than the man who has suddenly decided that because we wear Scarlet we should die." He shook his head slowly back and forth. "He has become a stupid Kaiser. We would rather follow our traitor general than the Kaiser who leaves his throne only to kill his own men."

Beraht frowned and glanced at Dieter, who stared silently back. They seemed to watch each other forever before Beraht finally tore his eyes away. "They're as stupid as you." Dieter said nothing.

Matthias looked between them and shook his head. "So they will remain with us?" he asked at last. "The ministers have probably expired from outrage by this point. I can't imagine why else they haven't beaten down my door." He flicked his eyes warily to the heavy oak door of his office, half-expecting it to burst open or dissolve into splinters as angry councilmen crashed through it looking for his blood.

"At least until the Kaiser is forced to withdraw," Dieter said.

Beraht rolled his eyes. "I may be just a shadow-killer, but even I know what we have here cannot fight against what the Kaiser must be bringing, even if the rest of them never seemed to do more than threaten you. Nor do I think you have beaten sufficient skill into the Illussor quite yet."

Dieter laughed coldly. "What I have is all I will need. War is not what I intend for them." His eyes gleamed with something like genuine pleasure. He looked at Matthias. "Now I have more effective means to train your men."

Matthias could not help a burst of laughter. "You are promising to be every headache I anticipated, my general, but you are worth them. Do as you see fit and send me the reports and any complaints."

"Matthias!" Esta hissed. "You cannot simply set the Scarlet loose around the palace. Have you forgotten—"

"I've forgotten nothing, Essie," Matthias interrupted, unusually somber. "Perhaps you've forgotten that we currently have all of the Krian army, minus not quite a thousand Scarlet, headed for us and our men can barely hold their swords properly."