The Crown of Stones: Magic-Price (22 page)

Yet, gruesomeness aside, the man was no tavern rat like Danyon. His head of thick, black hair was combed and contained. Instead of a wild beard like most of his kin, he sported only a small tuft in the middle of his chin. He carried no extra weight either. Sizeable muscles protruded from his sleeveless, leather vest, as if his body had been built by years of hard work.

“Troy,” the man said cordially. “Captain Krillos, at your service.” Smiling down at me like an old friend, he crossed an arm over his waist and bent in a dramatic bow. As he straightened, and our eyes met, his held no animosity whatsoever. Only a simmering amusement and far more intelligence than most Langorians were blessed with.

“Captain,” I nodded. “I didn’t think Langor had any high ranking soldiers left from the old days. Or any soldiers for that matter.”

“I was out of your line of sight, Shinree. We all were.” Grinning openly, he spread his arms in a sweeping gesture at his men. None were quite as distinguishable as Krillos, but they were all rough and nasty looking.

“Where? Prison?” I asked, and the captain’s jaw tensed. “Gods,” I laughed. “I’m right. You weren’t even in the army during the war. You were in a cell.”

“Captain Krillos!” Malaq called out. “I believe you would do better to deal with me. I’ve been dispatched by the realm of Kael to discuss peace with your King.”

Krillos slid his eyes to Malaq. “I know who you are.”

“Is that a threat?” I cut in.

“Troy,” Malaq cautioned. He raised a hand to silence me. I didn’t like it, but Malaq seemed to think he could handle the situation so I backed down, and prepared to watch him waste his refined, diplomatic skills on a man whose head should be in a bag on my saddle.

“If you know who I am, Captain,” Malaq said, with a frigid smile, “then you are either witless or disloyal. Unless, you have another explanation as to
why you have accosted my party and have yet to address me with the honor in which I am due.”

Krillos backed his mount out of the trees. He returned to the path and halted in front of Malaq. “My deepest apologies, My Lord Prince,” he said; sounding more facetious than sincere. “It was not my intention to offend you.”

Carelessly, Malaq drew Natalia and rested her across his lap. “Then, what is your intention, Captain?”

“To bring you home to Langor,” Krillos answered.

“As a prisoner?” I jumped in.

Krillos tilted his head at me. “Our task is to ensure the Prince’s safe arrival at Darkhorne.” He glanced between us. “Or did you think King Draken unaware?” His grin was wicked, yet lighthearted, as if he found the whole thing entertaining. “He knows you’re coming, Prince. He knows you are all coming.”

“Then I look forward to a proper welcome,” Malaq said evenly. “But, as you can see, Captain, I already have an escort.”

“A Kabrinian pup and a used-up witch?” Krillos grunted. “Forgive me, Prince, but I don’t believe these men are fit to escort a Rellan goat herder.” He laughed and a vigorous round of chuckles ran through the troops.

“And what of you?” Malaq asked. “Are you fit?” His tone was quiet and a little bit frightening. “Would you give your life to protect me, Captain? Would you give it now, if I asked?”

Krillos went still as stone. “I’d prefer not, My Lord. But you must understand. Whatever we were before, we are now avowed soldiers of Langor. We are duty-bound to protect you. Honored as well, if you have half the character you’ve displayed so far. But these men you travel with are enemies to the realm. Your brother would not approve.”

“I owe my brother nothing.” Malaq’s gray eyes burned. “I owe you even less.”

“As you say.” Krillos bowed his head. “But I would be lax in my duty if I didn’t ask you to reconsider. They are questionable company for a Prince.”

“You dare judge me?” Malaq laughed. It was a dark, menacing sound unlike any I had heard from him before. “I choose my own companions, and
my own enemies. And I choose carefully. I suggest, Captain,” he said, equally sinister, “that you do the same.”

Krillos said nothing. He just stared at Malaq, and Malaq stared back, and the silent contest of wills went on long enough to make me sweat.

Wisely, Krillos broke first. “I am here to serve, Prince. So I will honor your wishes and leave you with your,” he paused, “chosen attendants. But I must insist on taking that.” His dark eyes fell to the shard at my neck.

“Why?” I asked him. “What does Draken want with it?”

“How should I know?” Krillos smirked. “Maybe he wants to give a bauble to his bride on their wedding night…if he finds her soft, Rellan flesh pleasing enough.”

Jarryd bolted to his feet. “Neela will never marry Draken!” He stepped toward Krillos. I put an arm out to stop him and he bared his teeth at me.

“Damn it, Jarryd,” I snarled back. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

“That’s right, Troy,” Krillos snickered, “control your pup. I’d do it for you, but I’ve filled my quota of Rellan beatings for today.” Leaning back in his saddle, he waited for his men’s laughter to die down. “Now if you don’t mind…the stone?”

“Sure,” I said. “I’ll give you the same terms I offered the last dead man that asked for it. Take it. If you can.”

“Now, that,” Krillos said, a twinkle of excitement in his eyes, “is without doubt the best offer I’ve had all day. Unfortunately, I have other, pressing business in the area that doesn’t leave me much time for grinding your face into the dirt.”

I took a guess. “You’re going after Kael’s troops.”

“We are. But rest easy, Troy. Draken and Guidon have a temporary accord. Our orders are only to observe the Kaelish and report back their numbers.”

“And if they raise arms against you?”

“That would be foolish.”

One of his men leaned in. “We were sent for the Prince and the stone, Captain. We can’t go back empty handed.”

“Actually you can.” I pulled my other sword. “If you go back now, Krillos, your hands may be empty, but they’ll still be attached.”

“Ian,” Malaq cautioned. “There are better ways to settle this.”

“It is settled,” I told him. “Isn’t that right, Krillos? You’re under orders not to engage us.” I gave the Langorian a deliberate smile. “Draken knows it would be a waste of men to try me.”

“Cocky bastard,” Krillos murmured. He shook his head, laughing to himself. “I have to say, I’ve rather enjoyed our little exchange. It’s almost a shame you’ll be dead soon. In fact, I don’t have to do a damn thing. I can wait for the Arullans to catch up to you for Aylagar’s murder and haggle with them for the stone over your headless corpse.”

“Kill them, Ian!” Jarryd bellowed at my side. “Don’t let them leave here alive!”

Krillos let out an amused snort. “Lack of blood must be affecting your vision, Messenger. Your witch, brave and dashing as he is, can’t possibly kill us all.”

“Oh, I think I could.” I looked down at the stones at my wrist and started spinning them, round and around, to get his attention. “It’s just a matter of how.”

“You’re bluffing,” Krillos said brashly. “You don’t have the stomach for magic anymore. Haven’t cast a spell in years, I’m told.”

“You were told wrong.” A bit of the mirth faded from his eyes as I laid it out for him. “You were set up, Krillos. Draken doesn’t care about you. If I kill you right here and now he’ll just pick some other witless fool to run errands for him.” I called to the stones. One by one, they began to glow. “Or, you could take him a message. Tell Draken I won’t deal with his lackeys. Let him get his own hands dirty for once.”

“Meaning?”

“If he wants something he can come ask for it himself.”

“You realize,” Krillos frowned, “that I might not survive the conversation?”

I shrugged. “I can live with that.”

He frowned a moment more. “All right. I’ll give Draken your message. And if I’m still alive after, you and I will take this up again. Soon.”

“I look forward to it, Captain.”

Giving Malaq a quick nod, Krillos spun his horse around and took off up the hill. In his wake, the mounted soldiers fell into line and followed. The ones on foot came out of the trees and marched away. As their dust settled, Malaq turned to me. “I’ll make sure they don’t double back.”

He took off in pursuit. I put my weapon away and looked at Jarryd. One hand gripping my sword, his other gripping the sopping, red cloth, the entire side of his face and neck was painted in blood. It dripped down, darkening the white of his shirt and trailing off his arm to speckle the long stalks of grass around his legs.

I walked over and yanked my sword from his grasp. “Give me this.”

His voice was rough and disturbing. “Why? Why did you hold me back?”

“Jarryd, if you draw on a Langorian, you better be ready to kill him fast and quick, or you die. You draw on fifty Langorians…you just die.”

“Men like Krillos slaughtered my King, Ian. They slaughtered Sarin.”

“And they would have ripped you to pieces just as fast.”

“If I killed just one, it would have been worth it.”

“Really?” I got right in his face. “Are you that afraid of Neela marrying Draken that you’d rather die than see it happen?”

His blue eyes tightened. “Fuck you, Ian. Just…fuck you.”

Slamming the sword in its sheath, I shoved past him and walked away, struggling not to be tired or frustrated, or any of the things that were making me want to beat the shit out of him until he saw reason.

Not that it would work. I recognized Jarryd’s absolutes and reckless passion all too well. I understood his need for justice no matter the cost. I knew what it was like to be ready to go up against the enemy with nothing but anger and vengeance.

I also knew how easily it could get him killed.

I turned back around. “Krillos will bring me Draken. Draken will lead me to his Shinree and the crown, and that’s what’s important right now. That’s my priority.”

“Draken is the priority. His army—they need to be stopped. You didn’t see what they did in Kabri, what they’re doing all across Rella.”

“I’ve
seen
, Jarryd. I know what those fucking animals can do. But if Malaq can truly destabilize the realm, if he can start enough of an uprising that Draken will be forced to call his troops home, the occupation will end without thousands more Rellan or Kaelish soldiers dying. It’ll just leave me and his magic user to finish this.”

“You and I both know that if Malaq goes to Langor he will be dead inside of a day. But you can stop that, Ian. You can stop all of it if you just
kill Draken now. Wish him and all of his kind dead, once and for all. I know you can.”

“If I had the crown, yes, I could.” Excitement overtook his drawn features and my expression turned fierce. “Do you have any idea what the cost of something like that is? Do you even care?” I didn’t want to know his answer, so I didn’t wait for it. “I do. And I’m not paying it again. Besides.” Exasperated, I ran my hands back over my head. “There’s more to consider than just Draken.”

“What
more
?”

Jarryd stared at me, expectantly. As he did, I thought of all the motives and agendas, the implication and rumors, the mysteries and impossibilities that had been bugging me for days. And I laughed. “The fuck if I know. Maybe I’m making connections that aren’t there, making myself crazy over nothing. All these fragments, these pieces I have—the crown, Draken, his Shinree, Imma…the shard. Maybe none of them fit together.”

Bewilderment shone through the blood on his face. “Pretending I know what you’re talking about, have you thought that maybe the only thing these pieces of yours have in common…is you?”

I wasn’t laughing anymore. Jarryd had such a way of seeing to the heart of things that his innocent, offhanded statement felt like something else. Something I didn’t like.

“Just so we’re clear,” Jarryd said then. “If you don’t kill Draken, I will.”

“Go ahead. But you’re no good to her dead.”

He flinched, like I’d just punched him in the stomach.

“I have something for that.” I went over to Kya. Unbuckling one of the packs on my saddle, I pulled out the blue bottle the physician gave me in Kael. “There’s not much left,” I said, walking back and shoving it in his hand. “But it’s the one thing that old coot did right.”

Jarryd uncorked the stopper. Without wavering, he drank.

“You two won’t ever work,” I said, watching him. “No matter what happens with Draken, Neela won’t give up her crown for you. She might smile or pat your head. Bestow favors and gifts to keep you interested. Royal concubines receive many special privileges.” His scowl was brutal but I finished anyway. “If that’s enough for you, go ahead. Stand quietly by in the shadows. If it isn’t, then turn your back now.”

Cautious of his wound, Jarryd wiped the spill from his mouth. “It’s not like that. Not anymore. Hell, I’m not sure it ever was.”

“If the past is where Neela belongs, Jarryd, then leave her there. Otherwise, her ghost will follow you to the grave.”

“The way Aylagar follows you?” It was a sincere, innocent question. Justified, after the speech I’d just given him. But twice in a matter of minutes Jarryd’s candor had flustered me and I stood, gaping at him, until Malaq came back (his mount sliding to a dusty stop between us), and Jarryd walked off.

Cloth against his head, bottle gripped in his teeth, Jarryd climbed awkwardly up into the saddle and started down the trail.

Malaq stared after him. “How is he?”

“Not good. Where are they headed?”

“Back to that valley. Where the main road curves in close to the mountains.”

Picturing the place, I frowned. “Aldous will be days from there yet.”

“If Krillos has orders, he’ll wait. Which will keep him off our trail for a while. Give us time to get our impetuous, young friend patched up. Maybe get some sleep. Real sleep,” he said, with meaning. “I’ll even take first watch.”

“No. I’ll do it.”

“And forget to wake me again like last night—and the night before that?” He allowed a faint showing of worry into his voice. “Do you think I haven’t noticed? You can’t keep going on magic alone, Ian. You need sleep.”

“What I
need
is to look after Jarryd.” I swung up onto Kya’s back. “Unless, you want to handle the stitches? It’s not quite like skinning a fish but…”